


lips like licorice, tongue like candy

by kirishimaaa



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Another Episode, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-15
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-01-13 01:12:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 33
Words: 34,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18458411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kirishimaaa/pseuds/kirishimaaa
Summary: Varied Danganronpa pairings doing various kinds of kissing.Feel free to request a ship!





	1. Fuyuhiko/Kazuichi: Seven Minutes In Heaven

**Author's Note:**

> i realized i'd started a chain of half-finished DR fics that all included some smooching, so i figured i'd post em here whenever i got them done!!!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _i said no more teachers_
> 
> _and no more books_
> 
> _got a kiss under the bleachers_
> 
> _hoping that nobody looked_

"C'mon, man, please—"

Fuyuhiko couldn't believe this. He didn't know what was worse. Being in a tiny, cramped closet with Kazuichi or knowing full well what they were supposed to do in said closet. 

Seven minutes in heaven, his _ass_. Sonia could offer him his goddamn freedom and he still wouldn’t agree to this. 

"No." He snaps for the fifth time, short and clipped. 

"But duuuuuuude... " Kazuichi whined, tugging incessantly at his arm. There was no reason to, really. The closet was locked, so it wasn't like he could leave. 

Hell, it was too cramped to even have personal space. Kazuichi’s arms were braced against the wall on either side of Fuyuhiko’s head, most likely to help keep them from awkwardly full-body touching, but that was uncomfortable in of itself. He had to stare up at Kazuichi, too, because the only other alternative was looking down and that was even weirder. 

“No. I am not,” He inhales, crossed arms tense. “ _Kissing_ you.”

“Hey!” Kazuichi pouted, brow furrowing. “Don’t make it sound so...so weird! I just wanna go through with this because-”

“Because your Miss Sonia dared us to do this in the first place, I heard you the first three goddamn times!” Fuyuhiko blew a frustrated breath through his nose. This entire situation was ridiculous, and he had no idea what Kazuichi’s thought process was behind this.

Kissing Fuyuhiko will...somehow progress he and Sonia’s nonexistent relationship? That was just silly. All it was gonna do is get the both of them teased mercilessly about it, and make things awkward. 

“Then why can’t we do it?” Kazuichi, using all three of his brain cells, asks immediately. Fuyuhiko drags a tired, tired hand down his own face. 

“Because it’s stupid, and I said no.”

“THOSE AREN’T REASONS, MAN, C’MON.”

“Quit yelling! Your breath stinks!” A lie, but still. 

“Is that why you don’t wanna? I got gum in my pocket, hold on,” Kazuichi rushes to shove a hand into his mechanic outfit, and Fuyuhiko sighs.

“Can’t we just...say we did it? Sit in here a little while longer, rustle our clothes up some, and they won’t know a difference.” He tries to reason and doesn’t even know _why_ he’s trying. 

Normally, he’d just threaten somebody until they quit annoying him. Why was Kazuichi any different? Whatever, not like he had time to dissect himself psychologically. 

“Miss Sonia will know.” Kazuichi says solemnly. Fuyuhiko’s mouth opens to argue, but he continues, “She just _will_. We gotta do this full throttle, or not at all.”

“Not at all sounds great, then.”

“What if I say please?” Kazuichi, inadvertently or not, leans closer.

“Still no.” Fuyuhiko dismisses.

“What about pretty please?”

“Huh, now that you say that…” He says, watching Kazuichi’s face light up. “No.”

The sad puppy look almost makes him feel bad. Almost. If Kazuichi’s annoying crush on Sonia wasn’t half his goddamn reasin for being, Fuyuhiko wouldn’t be so uptight about it. His fixation on her is just creepy, and Fuyuhiko really didn’t like it, for some reason.

“Pleaaaaase….” Kazuichi whines, leaning closer _again_ , and Fuyuhiko resists the urge to avert his eyes. He could probably count his eyelashes at this level of closeness, but he’s not gonna, because that’s weird. “Just a peck!”

Fuyuhiko massages his temples. Then, just like that, “Okay.”

Kazuichi blinks, mouth parting with shock. “Okay?”

“Yep. You heard me.” Fuyuhiko grins, spiteful and slow. His reasoning behind agreeing was just...to be blunt, he thinks Kazuichi is too much of a coward to actually do it. All you gotta do is hand him the reins and watch him fumble awkwardly, and that’s exactly what the yakuza planned on doing. “C’mon, mack on me already. These lips ain’t getting any younger.”

“Uh….” Kazuichi appears to find the ground very fascinating suddenly. Fuyuhiko represses a snicker. “Alright.”

“That’s what I thought.” Fuyuhiko says smugly, and then... “Wait, what—“

Two calloused hands cup his face, surprisingly gentle, as Fuyuhiko gets an up-close look of Kazuichi’s hesitant expression before he leans in, and then, just like that, Fuyuhiko’s being kissed. It’s overwhelmingly childish, just a mash of tight-lipped mouths. Clearly Kazuichi had about as much experience as he did. 

Fuyuhiko stays stiff a good few moments, before he gives up on life entirely and goes with it. Or he tries to, but boy, is Kazuichi making it hard. The hands on his face were trembling. Maybe it was nerves, or the fact that he doesn’t _really_ wanna do this.

Fuyuhiko pulls back just enough to speak, whispering lowly. “Don’t be so stiff. It feels like a statue is trying to make out with me.”

He almost immediately regrets saying that last part, but Kazuichi’s full-face flush makes the embarrassing statement worth it. 

“How do I…” Kazuichi whispers back, looking anywhere but Fuyuhiko. “Uh. Y’know.”

“Hell if I really know. Not like I have much experience either.” Fuyuhiko admits. “Just...here, hold on.”

He tugs Kazuichi down, wrapping his arms around his shoulders. Runs a hand through his dyed hair for good measure, something he’s seen a lot in romance movies. Given the other boy’s sharp inhale, he didn’t dislike it. 

“Start slow, and don’t tense up.” He warns, trying to go about this in a clinical teaching way, if just so he didn’t have to come to terms with what this actually was. “Move your mouth a little, too. I think that’s how you’re supposed to do it.”

The second kiss goes better, if only somewhat. It felt a little too real now, the way Kazuichi’s lips moved hesitantly against his own. Something builds in Fuyuhiko’s chest, and he tries to ignore it, leaning on the tips of his toes to make the height difference less. 

Something warm and wet slides across the seam of his mouth, _oh god that’s his tongue isn’t it_ , and all he can think to do is let his lips part while the fluttering, nauseating feeling in his stomach increased tenfold. 

Having someone else’s tongue in your mouth wasn’t as gross as he’d imagined. Maybe it helped that Kazuichi tasted like the dessert they’d eaten earlier at dinner, chocolate-y and slow as it brushed against the inside of Fuyuhiko’s mouth. 

Sharpness snagged against his bottom lip, leaving a smarting sting. 

“ _Fuck_ —“ He pulls away briefly to mumble, glare half-hearted at best. “Watch the teeth, idiot.”

“Sorry.” Barely leaves Kazuichi’s mouth before he’s kissing Fuyuhiko’s again, twice as eager as before with half the previous hesitation.

His teeth manage to scrape against Fuyuhiko’s lip three more times during the kiss, but he’s too distracted to really care. It’s when his tongue is being sucked on gently that he finally thinks _huh, this is probably more than a peck._

Kazuichi’s hands leave his face. Before he can ask what’s wrong, a grip settles on his waist, and he nearly coughs into the kiss out of shock. Kazuichi pulls away, just enough to bury his face into Fuyuhiko’s neck. He huffs out a breathy little laugh. His lips are nearly touching Fuyuhiko’s skin. 

“What’re we even doing?” His grip slides low, moving to Fuyuhiko’s hips. 

“B-beats me.” Fuck, why did he stutter. “...You wanted to.” 

“Yeah.”

They fall into a silence that’s surprisingly not as uncomfortable as you’d think. They’re probably still coming off the high of...whatever this was, and weren’t currently thinking as much as they should. 

Hands squeeze his waist, and when he looks down he sees that Kazuichi can nearly wrap both hands completely around his middle. Kazuichi whistles. 

“You’re tiny, man.” He says it as if he’s just realized. “I could pick you up with one arm tied behind my back.”

“Do you want to die?” Fuyuhiko threatens, though it probably loses most of the effect with how hard he’s blushing. 

“S not a bad thing.” Kazuichi’s breath puffs against the sensitive side of his throat, and he swallows. “I sorta like it. Miss Sonia is taller than me, so I kinda wish-”

If you asked Fuyuhiko why he jerked Kazuichi backward by the hair, mashing their mouths together with an almost _angry_ ferocity, well...he’d deny any of this ever happened. And then probably murder you.


	2. Keebo/Kokichi: Wireplay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _i pull back the curtain_
> 
> _took a look into your eyes_
> 
> _my tongue has now become_
> 
> _a platform for your lies_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm still in the middle of playing DRV3, so if i'm a little shaky with accuracy on these two, i'm so sorry :'D i tried, and really liked writing keebo's perspective.

Keebo may be in a pickle. (He still doesn't understand that phrase, and that's after assessing uses of it over the internet multiple times now. Why would he be in a pickle? That's unsanitary.)

To put it more plainly: Keebo was going through some trouble. 

(There. Better. No more confusing metaphors.)

He'd been a bit too immersed into his thoughts, and that'd led to him doing something that, well... 

He fell down the stairs. 

An entire flight of them, in fact. So loudly, the sounds of clanking metal reverberating through the entire floor, that he'd be hopeful someone would come and help. However, it was also 1am. 

Everyone should be in their dorms, asleep. So here Keebo was, tumbling down the stairs of the third floor at a concerning speed before slumping against the very bottom. 

He could recall begging his master for pain sensors years ago, in a shoddy attempt at feeling more human, and he'd never regretted a decision more right about now. 

"Ouch," He winced, untwisting his limbs before getting into an unsteady standing position. "Oh, it's the first time I've had to say that. It doesn't feel very momentous, does it... "

He checked himself for any popped-out-of-place parts or worse, tears, and was able to sigh in relief once he found none. 

The sigh of relief stuttered considerably when his hand brushed over something, right at the base of his left arm. Was that—

"Oh no."

It was a loose wire. 

Sticking out, gaudy and obvious, was a red wire. An almost-torn red wire, barely keeping together at the middle. 

If he was able to use both hands, he could easily just ease it back in his arm component and request Miu fix it tomorrow morning. 

As he did not have three arms, that was impossible. 

And so Keebo sat down on a step, put his face in his hands, and worried about it for a good five minutes. Letting anxieties stew wasn't good, apparently. He only felt worse the longer he sat still and kept thinking. 

Keebo was learning something new about emotions without even trying now! If he wasn't in this situation, he'd take time to smile about it. 

But he was in this situation, and so there was no time for smiling. Only despairing. 

"Hey, Kee-boy! What're you doing?" A familiar high-pitched voice chimes in, inches from his ear. 

Keebo would insist that he most definitely did not scream in fright, except that he did. The robot propels forward a few inches, nearly falling off the step he was sitting on. 

"K-kokichi?" He says uneasily, hand pressed against his chest. A very human gesture, he briefly noted. "You scared the life out of me!"

Another metaphor but at least it didn't involve pickles, and somewhat made sense. 

The boy addressed laughed, black hair bouncing slightly when he plopped down next to Keebo on the stair, entirely too close to be comfortable. 

"Can't have life if you're not alive, silly!" He said, grinning. 

"Even late at night, your bigotry knows no bounds." Keebo deflated, too used to this to even get upset anymore. "What are you doing awake?"

"I was in a lab, when I heard some loud-ass noises." Kokichi hummed. "Thought the exisals were coming out and got excited, but I guess I was just hearing things."

"Ah, that was..." He stopped, suddenly realizing that Kokichi is definitely going to laugh at him. Not what he needed right now, but he couldn't think of an excuse. "...it was me."

The human cocked his head, "You? You're not that noisy when you walk."

"I am not noisy at all!" Keebo huffed. "I...may have fallen down the stairs."

Keebo expected laughter, but _not_ the amount he got. You'd think Kokichi had heard the funniest comedic rhetoric in all the world, with how his head tipped back, crazed laughter echoing across the school. 

“It is not funny!” Keebo couldn't help the pout on his face, eyes narrowed and hurt. “I even injured my machinery, and I don't have anyone to h—”

Kokichi's laughter abruptly came to an end. When he looked at Keebo, he was still grinning. “You did _what_ now?”

He had a feeling he'd just made a very big mistake. 

Keebo really should have insisted that they do this in his dorm room instead. Maybe he should’ve insisted that they don't do this at all. 

_“I can totally do it!”_

_“You...want to help me?” Keebo’s voice accidentally bled his skepticism._

_“Not particularly.” Kokichi shrugged. “But if it means getting a reeeal close look at your robot parts, I'll do it.”_

_“I do not like your phrasing of that.” Keebo frowned._

_“You want my help or not, Kee-boy?” Kokichi huffed, already sounding impatient._

_“Well… “_

He did need his help. And he was about to get it. Whatever it was. 

The robot glanced uneasily around him. Kokichi's room looked... um. It was certainly unique. He avoided touching the horse mask situated on the boy’s bed. 

Well, if Kokichi was up and about at 1 am, maybe he didn't spend very much time in his dorm. His unsettling dorm. 

The boy in question shut the door behind him, locking it casually. A large red _!!DANGER!!_ appeared before Keebo's eyes, but he willed it away, keeping his gaze on the comforter. Kokichi wouldn't kill him, would he? 

At least not with everyone right here. If Keebo screamed, he would be heard. Maybe it was Kokichi's safety precaution, locking the door. 

Kokichi sat down beside him so suddenly Keebo bounced a bit in place. The robot cleared his nonexistent vocal cords, planning to get straight to the point.

Any words he'd planned on stalled when Kokichi grabbed his arm, looking down at it with a suspiciously joyous air. "So I just need to put this back in place?" 

He moved to poke the wire, and Keebo barely managed to refrain from batting his hand away. "Please don't do that. It's very fragile."

Kokichi slumped with a sigh. 

"Leave it to the robot to be no fun." The grip on Keebo's arm turned gentler, if grudgingly so. "You didn't answer my question."

"Oh! My apologies." Keebo met his gaze for the first time since they'd gotten to the dorm. "You just need to pull my forearm component back, carefully stick the wire in, and then put my arm component back in place. I'll get Miu to do the rest in the morning."

Kokichi nodded wordlessly, looking 45% more bored all of a sudden. Ah, Keebo had forgotten that he wasn't the fondest of Miu. She may have a foul mouth, but she'd always helped Keebo with new abilities and fixing him. 

Sure, she did it... a little weirdly, but if it's what motivates her to get his repairs done, then she can moan and cling to him uncomfortably close all she wants. 

"You see these two buttons?" Keebo motioned to the buttons at the base of his arm, under his elbow. "Just press them at the same time."

"Got it, got it." Kokichi did exactly as he was told, which was a pleasant surprise. 

He made a sound of awe when the lid of Keebo's arm component snapped back, revealing a panel of wiring and other inner workings of his limb. 

"Woah!" Kokichi exclaimed, and Keebo couldn't help the twinge of pride. Finally, he was being taken seriously! "So what would happen if you cut these?"

"I'd lose very important requirements needed for this arm to function." Keebo answered automatically, and then reeled back. "Wait, why are you asking—"

"Just curious!" Kokichi giggled, clinging to Keebo's side, his small hands on the robot's arm to keep him from moving away. "Quit squirming, Kee-boy, or I won't help you at all."

Keebo stilled reluctantly. "Please hurry."

“Don’t rush me,” Kokichi’s hand hovered over his arm for a tense few seconds. The human’s eyes flicked up to Keebo’s face. “Or I may _accidentally_ mess up somewhere, heh.”

Before Keebo could process a good comeback, Kokichi’s fingers brushed against his inner wiring. A hot flash of _something_ went up Keebo’s back and he gasped. 

Kokichi looked up again, eyebrows raised. “Something the matter, Kee-boy?”

“Uh—“ Stuttering was _not_ a part of his programming, so the fact that he was doing it was baffling. It was suddenly so hard to focus. “I-I...no. Nothing’s wrong. I’m sorry for my outburst.”

Kokichi held his gaze for an uncomfortable amount of time, purple eyes narrowed. Then, just like that, “Alright then.”

With that, Kokichi dipped his hand back in his arm component, and the firm way he stroked over his wires was anything but accidental.

“Ah—“ Why wasn’t his mouth obeying his protocol? Everything felt too hot, too hyper-focused, and his eyes squeezed shut. He had the urge to squeeze his legs together, so he did. “K-kokic-“

His protests did nothing to make Kokichi stop, so Keebo tried to weakly push him away with his functioning arm. 

“Quit that, or I’ll rip a wire out. What’s wrong, anyway?” Kokichi asked again, and his voice was noticeably lower. And closer. “C’mon, c’mon, tell me.”

“That feels incredibly stra-“ Kokichi decided that’d be the perfect time to tug at a wire, and his voice rose an octave higher mid-word. “ _aaaaange-!“_

Kokichi finally paused his ministrations, and Keebo’s tensed form slumped over. He had no need for breathing, but he still panted, robotic chest heaving with breaths he didn’t have a purpose for. 

“Huh.” Kokichi said. Eyes roved over his flustered expression, his tightly-drawn legs. _“Huh.”_

“What?” Keebo asked breathlessly, still regaining his composure.

“Oh, it’s nothing.” He smiled sweetly. “Just didn’t know robots could get turned on until now.”

Keebo cocked his head, confused. “Unless I’m in sleep mode, I am always turned on.”

It was silent for a good moment. 

“Yeah. Of course you are.” Kokichi replied, a breathy little laugh in his voice. Keebo vaguely wondered what was so funny.

When Kokichi leaned close, his expression could almost be called fond. He reached up to cup Keebo’s face between his hands. 

“What’re you…” Keebo trailed off, seeing the strangely serious look Kokichi was giving him. “Um.”

It was when Kokichi came even closer, practically sitting in the robot’s lap by this point, and smashed their mouths together, that Keebo’s processing circuits finally had to learn first-hand what kissing was. 

_Oh_ , Keebo thought. Oh.

Just like about everything when it came to Kokichi, it was frenzied and a little rough. The human raked a hand through his synthetic hair, tugging at it when Keebo didn’t immediately reciprocate. 

Didn’t know _how_ to reciprocate. Or if he even wanted to. 

Kokichi’s tongue wastes no time in slipping past his lips, licking over everything he could reach. As if this was another way to explore Keebo’s properties as a robot. 

This would certainly be something strange if Keebo didn’t have oral features that were mostly humanoid. A tongue, teeth, the works. Even saliva!

It’d be like kissing a toaster, otherwise.

Why was he thinking about this right now?

Probably because he had no idea what to do about the situation at hand.

Clumsily, Keebo rested a hand against the back of the boy’s neck, an action he’d seen his fair share of in romantic movies, the ones he’d perused to understand humans more. It garnered a pleased-sounding sigh, so Kokichi probably didn’t loathe it.

When Kokichi took Keebo’s tongue between his teeth and bit down, sending a rush of pain to his processors, his senses came flooding back. Injured arm. Exposed wire. 

...kissing. Oh.

_WHY WAS HE JUST LETTING KOKICHI KISS HIM?!_

The way Keebo shoved the human back was none too gentle, and he rushed to scoot away, put some distance between the two of them. Kokichi didn’t look too hurt. Quite the opposite, in fact. The flush of his cheeks stood out against his pale skin, and the look in his eyes was downright unnerving. 

“W-what was that?!” Keebo exclaimed. 

“A kiss, stupid.” 

“I know that!” Keebo huffed. “I mean why did you—“

He immediately quieted down when Kokichi’s hands were back at his injured arm. He held his breath, eyes wide. 

Kokichi looked at his arm, and then back up at his face. The quiet was overwhelming. 

He grinned, slow and unsettling. 

And then he did just as Keebo had asked. Gently stuck the wire back inside his circuit, and closed the top.

“There ya go.” The human moved back to his spot, actually letting him have his own personal space. 

“Uh.” Keebo said stupidly. “Oh. Thank you? I am...very appreciativ-“

“Don’t do that.” Kokichi’s upturned nose wrinkled. “It’s gross.” 

He couldn’t even muster up the effort to be offended.

“Well! I’ll be going.” Kokichi said, springing up from the bed and heading toward the door. “This wasn’t the most boring thing I’ve ever been a part of, Kee-boy. Proud of you.”

“Ah, alright. Good night.” Keebo said, and then– “Wait, this is your room!”

The door slammed closed, and he sighed.

Robots didn’t get headaches, but he massaged his temples anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wireplay is hard but my love for these two is harder!!!! (fun fact: i started this before i got to the part in DRV3 where you get in kokichi's room. in this fic before, i'd described his room as PLAIN. PLAIN. how wrong i was C':)


	3. Komaeda/Hajime: Milk and Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _blanket of silence_
> 
> _makes me wanna sink my teeth in deep_
> 
> _burn all the evidence_
> 
> _of fabricated disbelief_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this ship is so hard to write but i'm so into it :') the SECOND i saw komaeda tied up in-game is when i knew i was DOWN

"Did you take precious time out of your day to bring food to little old me?" 

There was that coy, slithering and soft tone Hajime hadn't missed. When he'd walked in full of apprehension, breakfast in hand, he'd known Komaeda would be tied up. That was the entire point, but this was... 

Thick wire wrapped up his legs all the way to the knee, keeping them tightly bound together. A chain kept his arms pinned behind his back, leaving him stuck laying uncomfortably on his side. 

The building was sweltering, given the summer temperatures. He had a coat on too, and Hajime would bet Kazuichi and Nidai were both too dumb (or just didn't care enough) to think about taking the extra layers off, much less cleaning him up. It's been two days.

He was probably drenched in sweat. 

Add all that up, you'd think he'd be a spiteful, frightened, exhausted mess of a person. Maybe beg to be let free, or call the lot of them sick for actually leaving him like this. 

But no. 

Komaeda was smiling, and the most unsettling part is that it was genuine. All upturned eyes, gently heaving chest, and heat-flushed cheeks that stood out against his pale face. 

He looked so, so _happy_ to see Hajime it would be downright pitiful if... if he hadn't done what he'd done. 

Hajime wouldn't feel bad for him. He got himself here. Keep your composure, and leave quickly. Don't let him confuse you, and don’t linger. 

"I'm just bringing you food." He says, short and clipped. Komaeda's smile widens.

Things went right to hell when Komaeda dared assume Hajime would feed him. 

"Wh—" He says, brows furrowed angrily. "Why the hell would I do that?"

"Well... " Only he could sound so politely condescending. "I can't exactly eat by myself like this. My hands are all tied up."

Hajime stares down at him. A beat passes, and then two. 

He drops to his knees with a muttered curse, the bowl trembling dangerously with his sudden movement. Leaving the food here, knowing damn well all the other boy could do was stare helplessly at it, was just cruel. He hated that he had to acknowledge that fact. He wishes he could be as ruthlessly stupid as Kazuichi and Nidai were. 

"Whatever." He snaps, slamming the bowl onto the ground so harshly some milk spilled out of the side.

At least this breakfast was mercifully simple. Cereal, some off-brand stuff that looked relatively edible. Probably soggy by now, but hey. Komaeda didn't deserve any less. 

He takes a spoonful of it, dangling it in front of the other boy. "Here."

Komaeda's eyes flit briefly to the spoon, and then back to Hajime's face. 

Already thin patience waning, Hajime couldn't help the way he jabbed the silverware into his cheek, a bit of milk spilling off the spoon, trailing down his face. "I said here! Hurry the hell up!"

Komaeda only chuckled. A quiet, breathy noise that Hajime wasn't quite sure was a product of his exhaustion, or just how he usually laughed. He opened his mouth just slightly, probably purposefully trying to piss him off more. 

Hajime shoved the spoon into his mouth. It clacked against his teeth, reaching the back of his tongue. Komaeda gagged, eyes widening. 

This was probably the first time he's seen him look genuinely caught off guard. And in such a vulnerable position, too.

If Hajime were a worse person, he'd say it was a satisfying sight to behold. 

...

Oh, what the hell. It _was_ a satisfying sight to behold. Sue him. 

Parted, red-flushed lips grimaced around the spoon. Komaeda's stare toward him looked genuinely confused. Milk dribbled past his mouth, down his neck. Hajime tracked the movement and didn’t really know why. 

"-ajime...ahjime!" Nagito's slurred, muffled voice pulls him out of his strange trance. He hurriedly pulls the spoon back. Komaeda immediately starts coughing, and guilt edges along his conscience. 

He hadn't meant to shove it in so forcefully. 

"Sorry." He mutters reluctantly. 

"S'okay." Komaeda smiles at him. He's got dimples, Hajime vaguely notices. "Trash like me deserves worse anyway."

"Quit that." Hajime's expression is exasperated. 

Komaeda still has milk all over him. Some of it dried, leaving behind a sticky-looking shine, while a bit of it was still trailing leisurely down his face and collarbone. He thinks of how unpleasant that must feel, and his nose wrinkles in disgust. 

Hajime reaches a hand out and then hesitates. 

It's not like Komaeda could get it himself. With that thought, his mind was made up. He gingerly wiped the milk off at the corner of Komaeda's bottom lip with his thumb, dragging down to get the dribble on his chin, too. 

Komaeda is deathly still. Hajime would swear he wasn't breathing if he couldn't currently feel it. Soft, warm breaths touched his wrist. Fairly even, that was a good sign. 

“You’re a mess,” He sighs, reminding himself of an exasperated mother chastising her misbehaving child.

“Yeah.” Komaeda agrees, smiling happily.

“That’s not a good thing.” Hajime rests the back of his hand against Komaeda’s cheek, checking for fever. He’s definitely warm, and Hajime gnaws worriedly at his lip. “You feel hot. Do you think you’re getting sick?”

No answer. Komaeda is still staring at him, eyes lidded. Hazy. Looking a lot more flushed than he had been.

“Oi.” He pats his cheek. “Answer me. What’s the matter?”

“Oh, it’s nothing.” Komaeda says coyly. Hajime doesn’t even have a second of relief before he’s talking again, “Just...to think someone like _you_ would touch trash like me….”

He tilts his face so his mouth is pressed against Hajime’s hand. He kisses the middle of his palm and Hajime’s face flushes a startling shade of red, eyes wide. “This feeling… it’s akin to _hope.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i HOPE ;).... anyone who reads this silly little fic enjoyed!!


	4. Keebo/Kokichi: Human Touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _i want to reconcile the violence in your heart_
> 
>  
> 
> _i want to recognize your beauty is not just a mask_
> 
>  
> 
> _i want to exorcise the demons from your past_
> 
>  
> 
> _i want to satisfy the undisclosed desires in your heart_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i continue to love these two and try my best to write them semi-coherently :')

“What?” Keebo asked, confused.

“I said,” Kokichi’s grin was saccharine. “Get on the floor.”

Keebo used to think that he wasn’t easily swayed. That assessment was proven false when Kokichi managed to get persuade him to do _this_ within a matter of a few seconds, simply with honeyed words.

 _“Pleaaaase? I just wanna examine your awesome body!”_ sounds a lot more sinister now than it had at the time. Keebo had told himself it was simple curiosity, that he’d get to educate Kokichi on his mechanisms as a robot and hopefully garner his respect. 

He was now regretting this decision. 

“But...but why?”

“So I can get a good feel for ya, duh.” Kokichi plops back on to his bed, gangly legs dangling off the side. He gestures right between his knees. “Come on, kneel right here. I ain’t got all day, Kee-boy.” 

Didn’t humans have...what was it called—oh! Personal space! 

This seems like an invasion of personal space. Kokichi didn’t seem to mind though. Quite the opposite, with his grinning and all. 

“I...”

“You?” Kokichi raises an eyebrow. 

Keebo gives in with a barely-restrained sigh. “Alright. I’m coming.”

Hesitantly, Keebo walks forward and gets on both knees in front of Kokichi. His hands stay clasped in his lap because he’s unsure of where to put them. Unsure of what to do at all, really. 

“Good. Just a little closer–“ Kokichi grabs him by the back of the head and yanks him forward. Keebo makes a sound of surprise, blinking when he’s suddenly situated between a pair of thighs. “ _There_ we go.” 

“Um.” His only options were staring at Kokichi’s groin or his unsettlingly-happy face. He chose the latter. “I fail to see why this level of closeness is necessary, but...what part did you want to examine?”

“Oh, just whatever I can reach.” 

With that, a hand rakes through his hair. It feels weirdly ticklish, and his nose wrinkles with the effort to keep silent. 

“Feels so real.” Kokichi pet him as if he were a dog, mockingly patting the top of his head. “ _Almost_ human. Look at you go!”

He trails down the ends of his hair, reaching his face. He was being surprisingly gentle about it, touch light and fleeting wherever it went. It would almost be soothing if he didn’t know Kokichi, or what he was capable of. 

“Kiss my hand.” Kokichi says, and Keebo nearly jerks his head back out of surprise. 

“What?”

“I wanna see how it compares to human lips.” With that as his apparent explanation, he held out his hand expectantly. 

“I can’t do that!” Keebo exclaimed. 

“It’s not like I’m asking you to make out with me.” Kokichi looks unimpressed by his flustered state. “Just a peck, c’mon. I washed it earlier and everything.”

Keebo stares at the hand, nervously contemplating. 

Well...if it was just a peck...

He didn’t know what Kokichi would do if he refused, so the best route was obviously to comply. Yes. 

He reaches out and grabs Kokichi’s hand. It’s not nearly as big as his, thin-boned and pale. He appears to bite his nails, given the jagged fingernails. 

The quiet was a muted sort of suffocating. He could feel a pair of eyes watching him closely.

All out of time to stall, Keebo squeezes his eyes shut and leans down, lips pursed for a kiss. Once his mouth meets skin, he can’t help but be pleasantly surprised. 

Kokichi’s hand is very warm. You’d think that would be obvious, with humans generating body heat and all, but he’d always imagined Kokichi to be cold. 

He lets himself linger a moment, feels Kokichi’s hand spasm slightly under his grip. When he pulls away, he even makes the exaggerated _mwah_ sound he’d known humans to be privy to. 

Kokichi’s eyes are unreadable as he looks at Keebo. Not angry, at least. That was a good thing.

“So?” Keebo tries hesitantly. “Was that okay? Did it feel human?”

Kokichi looks at him a moment longer. Then he smiles, and it’s only 36% unsettling this time. 

“Nah.” He says quietly, and reaches out to pat Keebo’s cheek. “But that’s what I like about it. Felt like you.”

Keebo swears he didn’t have the proper facilities to be able to blush, but he somehow defied his own machinery and did it anyway. “Oh.”

“Juuuuust kidding!” Kokichi says, voice back to being obnoxiously loud and joking. He pushed Keebo backward so he could get up from the bed. “Did you _believe_ that? I’d never say something so corny, Kee-boy!”

Keebo couldn’t help but notice that, while Kokichi said all of this, he never met his eyes once. 

Kidding, huh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope anyone who reads enjoyed!


	5. Hina/Sakura: Sleeping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _i want you_
> 
> _we can bring it on the floor_
> 
> _we’ve never danced like this before_
> 
> _but we don’t talk about it_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love sakura so much and she deserves love!!!! :"D

"Could you...sleep with me?" 

You'd think, just from looking at this situation, that Sakura's reaction would be surprise. Hina stood at her door, panties and a tank-top the only thing keeping her modesty, sniffling like a child. Small hands bunched up against her red-rimmed eyes, scrubbing tears away. 

"I'm scared." Hina follows up before Sakura can think to respond. "I just...I'd feel better if you were there."

Sakura's shoulder sag a bit, and her eyes soften. Of course she'd be scared. This killing game had only gotten more and more stressful and weary the more time passed, and optimistic, kind people like Hina just couldn't handle that. Especially after how many people they'd lost.

"Of course, Hina." She says softly. She actually has to back up a bit from the force that Hina bounds forward and hugs her, her lean arms wrapping around whatever they could reach while _thank you, thank you, thank you_ was whispered in Sakura's ear. Her trembling lips press a multitude of kisses on Sakura's cheek, forehead, chin, and wherever else they could reach. 

Sakura is torn between glowing under the attention and her worry for Hina, at her tear-swollen eyelids and uneven breathing. 

The first thing Sakura comes to find out is that Hina is a person with even less personal space when she was sleeping. This fact isn't at all surprising. 

The second she'd heard Hina's breathing even with sleep, an arm snagged over her waist while a small body clung to her back. Close contact that didn't involve fighting wasn't something Sakura engaged in very often, so it was very new. Certainly not unwelcome. 

She gently takes Hina's hand, noting the size difference with a raised eyebrow, and laces their fingers together. Hina mumbles something along the lines of _donuts_ and _gimme_ in her sleep, and Sakura tries her best to keep her chuckling quiet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i normally like writing darker stuff tbh, but writing fluff like this just makes me smile. it's so feel-good and happy and exactly what hina and sakura both deserve


	6. Chiaki/Sonia: Video Games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _it's you_
> 
> _it's you_
> 
> _it's all for you_
> 
> _everything i do_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> an anon commenter requested some Sonia/Chiaki, a pairing id actually never thought of previously but this was actually really fun to write!!

Video games were an anomaly to Sonia. 

It wasn’t a surprise, really. She was a princess, after all, and princesses usually don’t have the time to spend indulging in hobbies. Hobbies that weren’t for war, that is.

The second Chiaki had learned of this fact, she’d made it her mission to show Sonia the wonderful (supposedly) world of video games. 

“You run with this,” Chiaki points to a joystick on the old, run-down arcade machine. “And jump with this.” 

“Alright...” Sonia responds, looking at the bright, colorful screen with eyes that were less than impressed, though she tried to hide it. “What is this, um, exactly?”

“It’s really fun.” Chiaki says with a smile. Apparently that was her only explanation. “Your goal is to rescue the princess. I thought you’d be into it, since...y’know.”

Ah. Well, above all else...the fact that Chiaki thought this through so much was incredibly endearing. Sonia would try her best to like it. 

All the colors were best described as glaring. The graphics were something Chiaki called _old school,_ and it showed. Her character was a mass of blurred pixels. 

They did one test run, and it ended with Sonia running into a wall and getting murdered by some sort of mushroom monster. 

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry!” Sonia apologizes frantically and didn’t even know what she was apologizing for, hands flapping anxiously around. “I-“

“It’s okay.” Chiaki says gently, pressing a button that made the game go back to the title screen. “It was your first ever try. We have all the time in the world.”

“Ah...” Sonia says, face going a pleasant shade of red. “Okay.”

She died the second time the exact same way she had the first time. On the third, she got a bit further before getting eaten by a rabid plant. 

Fourth. Fifth. Sixth. Seventh. 

On the tenth, she was sweating and mumbling half-formed curses in her mother tongue, glaring at that awful, bright screen with pure frustration. 

On the fifteenth, she hung her head with a drawn-out sigh.

“I am sorry. I think...video games may just not be something I am good at.” She bites out reluctantly, gaze on the floor. 

She didn’t want to see Chiaki’s disappointed face looking back at her. 

A hand on her shoulder makes her look back up. Chiaki is smiling patiently, the dimples of her cheeks showing cutely in the way that made Sonia want to squeeze her and never let go. 

“It’s okay.” She repeats her earlier statement. “Here, I’ll help you.”

Chiaki takes her hand, thankfully ignoring Sonia’s little hitch of breath when she does so, and sets it gently over the joystick. Puts her other hand over the control buttons. 

Now that she has to lean in and face the machine, Chiaki is standing right behind her. So close that her chest touched Sonia’s back, her smaller hands covering the princess’s as she restarted the game.

“Run from these guys,” Her voice is soothing and quiet, gentle breaths billowing out against Sonia’s neck, making her swallow dryly. “Like this.”

She pushes the joystick (or makes Sonia’s hand push it with her hand) and there Sonia’s little character goes, sprinting away from those awful mushroom beasts like it was nothing. 

“Woooow.” Sonia breathes, the beginning of a smile working its way to her face. It _was_ a lot more fun when you didn’t have to worry about dying every few seconds. “Let us make haste, Chiaki! To that dreaded plant beast we go!” 

Chiaki giggles. “Yeah.”

Once they make it to the dreaded plant beast in question, Sonia is admittedly gnawing at the inside of her own cheek with nerves. This thing had been her murderer for over half her attempts, and while she didn’t doubt Chiaki’s prowess as a gamer, it was still nerve-wracking!

Her character stands mere inches from the plant. Sonia holds her breath. 

Then, Chiaki’s fingers gently prompt her to push a button, and she does with no hesitation whatsoever.

Her character jumps right over the plant-beast, and goes sailing to the finish line victoriously. 

A bold _YOU WON!_ comes on to the screen, followed by little pixel-y fireworks. Sonia gasps.

“See?” Chiaki backs up, takes her hands away. “You did it! Good jo—“

She doesn’t get to finish, because Sonia turns around and cups her face, kissing her so fiercely you’d think it’d be the last time. 

Chiaki’s brain short-circuits. Sonia’s lips are soft against her own, warm and eager in their movement. When she pulls away, she wraps her arms around Chiaki and _picks her up off the ground_ , hugging her like her life depended on it. 

“Thank you, thank you!!!!” She squeals in Chiaki’s ear, her laugh like tinkling bells.

Chiaki is half-stunned, her usually stoic face morphed into a blossom of rosy red. Sonia is looking at her and grinning, looking the perfect picture of an excited puppy, so she just _has_ to smile back, probably resembling some love-struck fool. 

“It was only level 1....”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I got their personalities okay!!! :’D


	7. Hina/Makoto: Fumbling, Awkward Comfort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _sweet dreams are made of this_
> 
> _who am I to disagree?_
> 
> _traveled the world and the seven seas_
> 
> _everybody's looking for something_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another request by an anon commenter :DD!! i'm feeling a little under the weather today but i'm tryin!

If you’d have asked why Hina was standing at his door at 2 in the morning, Makoto honestly wouldn’t have an answer.

“Um,” He says, pointedly not paying attention to the fact that she had no pants on. “What’d you need...?”

She looks at him a second longer. Then she sniffles, red-rimmed eyes blinking rapidly. 

Makoto has already managed to make a girl cry within the first minute of speaking to her. What a good person he was, truly. 

“It’s nothing.” Hina says through sniffles, which meant it was definitely something. “Just...could you do me a favor, Makoto?”

“S-sure!” Makoto hurriedly replies, happy to hopefully distract her from her crying. “What is it?”

“Sleep with me.” 

He nearly coughs up a lung. “ _Come again?”_

“It’s just,” She starts, and rapidly begins to look like she’s losing the battle against not crying. “Ever since Sakura.....y’know. She’s gone now, I can’t sleep.”

A heavy, dull feeling of sadness went through his chest. The air felt more somber, and all he could do was mull over her request, gnawing anxiously at his lip.

“You can’t get Kyoko to?”

“She’s...it’s kinda hard.” Hina stops, but Makoto definitely understands what she means. Kyoko was a great friend, but she also wasn’t the easiest to approach. “And I’m closer to you, I think. Who cares if you’re a boy? Monokuma said there were no rules that boys and girls couldn’t room together!”

_He’d said that with an innuendo in mind_ , Makoto couldn’t help but think, slightly exasperated.

“So will you? Please? Just for one night, I’ll figure it out later, I just really wanna sleep and I can’t and—“

“Fine!” Makoto interrupts her, hand raised in mock-defeat. “Fine. Just one night, okay?”

“Okay!” Hina practically squeals in happiness, bouncing forward and giving him the most loving, yet uncomfortable hug of his life.

Once they got to her room, most of the awkward air had dissipated. With Hina so cheery and talkative now, it was hard to keep things tense. 

Even when the both of them got in bed (after Hina spent ten minutes convincing him that he couldn’t just sleep on the floor), it wasn’t half as awkward as he’d been dreading.

It wasn’t like they were touching. The bed had enough room for them to have a couple inches of extra space, and even more when Makoto turned onto his side. 

When he was a good 78% asleep about an hour later, a leg swung over his hip and he was startled back into consciousness.

“Wha-“ He whispers, groggy and confused. “Hina...?”

The girl in question doesn’t answer; she scoots close until she’s tight against Makoto’s back, her soft, even breaths hitting the back of his neck. 

It was when he heard quiet snoring that he realized she was asleep. Ah. 

Leave it to Hina to be a sleep-clinger. He shouldn’t even be surprised. 

He gingerly tries to scoot away, but barely makes it an inch before her arm is around him too, resting against his middle and clutching him close. Makoto sighs.

“Oi,” He didn’t really want to wake her up, but it’s looking like that’s his only option. “Hina. Hina!”

“Mmmmhmmnhh,” She hums, mumbling something about donuts under her breath that he didn’t even try to decipher. Okay, so she was still very asleep. 

“Hina, seriously,” Makoto whines, squirming. “You’re way too cl-“

“Thanks f’r stayin’ with me, M’koto...” Hina mumbles, just clear enough for him to be unsure if she was awake or merely talking in her sleep. 

She snuggles even closer, breath billowing against Makoto’s ear for a split second before her lips press near the ridge of his jaw for a sloppy, half-conscious kiss. 

Makoto is honestly feeling faint. 

“H-hina!” He whisper-screams, his face ablaze. “Why did you....!”

He trails off when the sound of snoring reaches him. She was already asleep, still clinging to him like some sort of koala. 

Of course she was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'unno why every story i do with hina involves her sleeping with somebody, but i can't help it. it's cute, alright! writing makoto's awkward fumbling is always fun.


	8. Angie/Miu: Atua says...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _she won't ever get enough_
> 
> _once she gets a little touch_
> 
> _if i had it my way_
> 
> _you know that i'd make her say..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was a request by keeeeebo! what an interesting pair, i hope i got their personalities alright in this silly little fic :')

Angie’s answer to life itself was simply Atua, and it bothered the hell out of Miu. 

Having a bad day? Pray to Atua! 

Don’t know an answer for one of your homework problems? Auta’s got this!

Car broke down? Atua will fix it! 

Accidentally severed your own arm? Atua knows just the thing!

It was infuriating, and frankly dumb as shit. It shouldn’t be surprising, given who Miu was, but believing in higher beings just wasn’t her thing. Relying so much on said otherworldly beings just pissed her off. You literally can’t prove they exist, can’t prove they do _shit_ for you, so what was the fucking point? She didn’t know, and that’s what riled her the hell up. 

She figured it was time to try and get under Angie’s skin. Her very nice, soft-looking skin. 

“So...” She said on a day that only the two of them were in the cafeteria, her manicured nails drumming boredly against the table. “What would Atua do if I said I had a crush on ya?”

Angie slowly looked up from her breakfast, eyebrows drawn with confusion. Miu tried her best to hold back the smug grin. _Got her._

“Ah!” Angie clapped her hands joyfully, making Miu flinch. “You, too, have feelings for Atua, yes? I am his vessel, after all. He is a very handsome god, isn’t he?”

She giggles, looking at Miu as if she’d already found out everything she’d ever need to know about her, and Miu _hated_ it.

“No!” She immediately responded, trying not to pout. “You. I have feelings...for you. Angie. Not your good, great, al-fuckin-mighty God.”

“Ah.” Angie said, blinking. “Well, this is coming out of nowhere, but...Atua would not mind! He is very flattered that you’d like his vessel so much.”

His vessel...Jesus fucking Christ. Imagine referring to yourself as somebody’s goddamn _vessel._ She wondered what Angie’s life must’ve been like for her to turn out so...uh, fucked.

“Huh.” Miu raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “And what would this fuckin’ god do if I wanted to kiss you?”

“What?” Angie said, her voice going soft with confusion. 

“You heard me.” Miu said, grinning maniacally. “What would your Atua do if I wanted to lean over this table, grab you by the hair and plant one right on ya?”

Something strange happened then. Angie’s face goes several shades of red at once, her eyes looking anywhere but the smirking girl in front of her. 

Miu couldn’t help the slight shock. Was she...

“Erm...” Angie fidgets in her seat, going an even deeper shade of crimson. “Atua would not...mind...if you wanted to do that. M-more than once, even.”

Now it was Miu’s turn to blink with confusion, mouth parting with shock. 

Did this mean Angie actually....huh. How about that. 

Oh, what the hell. Miu leaned over the table and did just that. 

She only stopped when Keebo walked in to the cafeteria to see the two of them basically making out, and promptly tripped and fell onto his own face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> even with all the profanity, i still feel like i didn't make miu vulgar enough haha!!!


	9. Mikan/Hajime: Helllloooo Nurse!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _i wanna eat him_
> 
> _i wanna squeeze him_
> 
> _ladies…_
> 
> _you need to meet him!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some mikan/hajime requested by ClassyCorgi :))!!

“This is one b-big cut, Hajime...” Mikan’s soft voice gets him out of the stupor he’d been in, and he grimaced. 

He’d been lucky to have someone like her here, a person who could dress a wound, but it didn’t make the whole ordeal any less unpleasant. Dried blood stained his face, and down his collar. It didn’t hurt like hell anymore, but the dull ache wasn’t pleasant. 

“Yeah. Leave it to me to injure myself on an island where everyone is supposed to kill each other.” 

Mikan giggles at his stupid joke even though he knew it was too accurate to be funny, her hands delicate in the way they reached toward his face, at his cheek where the wound was. 

“Tell me if it hurts, o-okay?” 

“Mmhm.” 

Mikan almost became a different person when she was on nursing duty. Less stuttering and apologizing. Hell, she even _looked_ different when she was focusing on doctoring a wound. No drawn brows or anxious lip-biting. 

It was interesting to watch. Hajime found himself staring at her while she assessed his injury. She really did look like an entirely different girl. 

He doesn’t flinch when her fingers brush the cut, but a sharp exhale escapes him. She sends a sympathetic look his way and goes about it even gentler, just barely touching the edges of his cheek. 

“It’s a little swollen...” She observes quietly, eyes narrowing as she leaned near him to get a better look, so close that he could feel the heat radiating off of her. 

Hajime suddenly feels awkward, and his gaze shifts elsewhere. 

“It doesn’t need stitches.” She says, sounding...disappointed? “Darn. I was really wanting to t-try my stitching skills out, h-hehe...”

Even with the laugh tacked on at the end, he wasn’t sure if she was joking. 

“Sorry?” He apologizes, eyebrows drawn. 

“N-no, it’s fine! Just doing this is enough for m-me...” She trails off, eyes drawn to the blood on his face and neck. It’s a fascinated look, and that makes him feel self-conscious. “Here, lets get you good and cleaned before I bandage it, o-okay?”

“Okay.” He nods, and her smile is like the sun itself. So bright that it’s kinda hard to look at straight on.

“I’m gonna need to unbutton y-your shirt a bit. May I?” 

“Er, can’t I just do that myself...?”

“W-well...” She says, and Hajime can safely say this is the first time he’s seen her look _coy_. “I t-thought, since I’m the nurse...”

“Uh, sure. Go for it.” Hajime quickly follows up with, because he knows how ramble-y Mikan can get when she’s trying to explain herself. 

“Yay!” She cheers, and then covers her own mouth, eyes wide. “I-I mean, ahem. Okay.”

She goes about unbuttoning his shirt, going a little...well, a lot further than where the blood ended, but Hajime bites his tongue. It’d been a while since she’s had to put her nursing skills to good use. She was probably just being thorough.

Her fingers brush under his shirt, touching his skin, and linger there for entirely longer than necessary. _Just being thorough._

“O-okay. Now I’m gonna wipe this icky blood off.” 

“Gotcha.” Keep calm, Hajime.

Surprisingly enough, most of the awkward air dissipates once the warm, moist washcloth meets his skin. Maybe it’s because Mikan started humming a slow, cheery little tune, or maybe it was because of how gentle she was being. 

Either way, it helped Hajime relax some. Access water slides down his collarbone, and he misses the way her eyes track it intensely. 

Once she’d gotten all the blood and then patted him dry, all that was left was to dress the injury. Just a simple bandage would do, and Mikan looked more than happy to get to it. Nearly excited, which was...weird, but hey. Maybe she’s just the type that’s happy to take care of others.

The bandaging process goes smoothly and quickly with barely a flinch from Hajime. He was thankful that Mikan was being so careful about it, firm but gentle when she laid the bandage against his cheek. 

“A-all done!” Her voice has a happy, little victorious edge to it that makes Hajime have to hold back a smile. It’s so unlike her that it’s endearing. “Now, I just need t-to....”

“Wh-“ Hajime stops when she’s suddenly _so much closer _, her hand braced against his shoulder as she leans in close, the ends of her hair tickling Hajime’s arm. _Uh._ __

__Her lips meet his bandaged cut in a drawn-out kiss._ _

__He literally has no idea what to do, so he just sits there, cheeks rapidly reddening the longer the kiss lingered. She finally pulls back with an exaggerated _mwah_ sound, eyes half-lidded and smile wide when she looked at Hajime’s confused, flustered expression. She giggles, and it makes his chest feel warm. _ _

__“A kiss to make it better!”_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was actually really fun to write haha. putting in mikan's somewhat-obsessive crush on hajime was fun!


	10. Gonta/Kokichi: Power Dynamics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _you’ll do anything i say_
> 
> _when I talk you believe it_
> 
> _feed you bullshit all day_
> 
> _because I know you’ll eat it_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sometimes i'll go days without being able to write anything and then suddenly my hands won't be able to stop :'D steamy gonta/kokichi fanart is what got me so hype to play the game tbh so i have to write 'em at least once (maybe more, knowing me)
> 
> (Also THANK YALL SO MUCH FOR 50 KUDOS!!! :''''D)

Kokichi and Gonta.

In most things between the two of them, Kokichi inevitably takes the lead. Gonta is big, he's strong, and he's pretty goddamned scary—but nothing could fix that personality. It was okay. Kokichi didn't mind taking the reins. In fact...

Well, you could say he got a kick out of it. 

"Oi, big guy. C'mere," He commands suddenly from his spot on Gonta's bed, feet swinging idly off the side as he surveyed the hulk of a boy in front of him. "Chop, chop."

"Okay!" Gonta chirps with a smile, moving to get up. 

God, Kokichi would never get tired of his unending obedience. It was like having a giant at your call, ready to do anything you asked of him. Call Kokichi weird, but he really liked it. It made him feel important and worth being listened to. Hey, ultimate supreme leaders definitely need someone to lead, after all. 

Kokichi raises his hand, motioning for Gonta to stop. Of course, Gonta does exactly that and pauses, his head cocking to the side questioningly. 

“Close, but not quite. Crawl.”

Gonta looks confused, but there’s still barely a few seconds pause before he’s clambering to the ground like an overgrown ape, obeying Kokichi without so much as a question. He’s such an idiot. It’s _great._

“Good boy.”

Once Gonta is close enough, Kokichi’s hands make their way to his face, cupping his cheeks. They’re soft in his palms, like just about everything else on the giant currently beaming before him. If Gonta had a tail, Kokichi was positive it’d be wagging.

Even kneeling like this, Gonta was still so much _bigger_ than him. Kokichi had to crane his neck to be at proper eye-level. Bigger, but so subservient. It was kinda awesome. 

Kokichi gets close, leaning in so much he could count Gonta’s eyelashes if he was ever bored enough to want to. Sliding a hand down to rest against the back of his neck, bringing the other one to tangle in his hair. Gonta’s cheeks have long gone red because he’s anticipating _something_ , it’s just so stupidly obvious that Kokichi holds back a laugh. 

Gonta’s hands stay at his sides, trembling slightly. He knew the rules. _Don’t touch me unless I initiate first._

“Whadaya think I’m gonna do?” Kokichi whispers, his smile as small as it was devious. They were nose to nose now, and the unsure, eager excitement in Gonta’s expression was really a sight to behold. 

He felt like he was dangling a treat in front of a barely-trained dog and watching him squirm, tail wagging rapidly when faced with the doggy treat. Knowing that he couldn’t get it without permission, and still being unable to hide his growing excitement. 

Kokichi could drown in it. Having power felt goddamn _good_.

“U-um…” Gonta fumbles over his words, too caught up in the moment to focus. Kokichi’s smile widens. “Gonta think maybe...a kiss…?”

“Hm,” Kokichi pretends to consider it, running his tongue over his bottom lip. Gonta tracks the moment, just like he knew he would. So easy. “A kiss, huh.”

He gets even closer, his small chest pressing against Gonta’s bigger, broader one. He can feel Gonta’s soft breathing hit his face, and he feels it quicken the nearer Kokichi got. His left leg wraps around Gonta’s hip, not quite clutching him closer, but not letting him go either. 

“I think I’ll say…” He’s _so close_ , close enough to drown in the black of Gonta’s blown-out pupils. His grinning mouth hovers teasingly, barely an inch from Gonta’s. 

“Y-yes?” Gonta squeaks, anticipating his answer. Shit, this was good. Better than good. 

The rush of power that doing this gave Kokichi was more than worth the wait of building suspense, getting Gonta good and excited. Ready and eager, all for him. 

Gonta’s chest moves rapidly with how quickly he’s breathing, unable to hold in his eagerness. Kokichi leans in, and their lips are almost touching, but not quite, so, so _close—_

“No.” He whispers, puffing out a teasing breath of air, watching Gonta’s bangs move with the force of it. 

The kicked puppy expression he receives was almost enough to get him feeling guilty. But like most things were when it came to Gonta: almost, but not quite. 

Gonta’s shoulders slump, and he’s so clearly trying to look unbothered while failing _so badly_ at it that it’s hilarious. Kokichi doesn’t bother hiding his grin. 

“If that’s what Kokichi want…” Gonta smiles, and Kokichi hates the fact that it manages to be genuine. Even whilst stewing in his disappointed rejection, the idiot’s still such a softie. “Gonta understand— _mmmphh!“_

Kokichi, being himself, decided that _that_ was the perfect moment to yank Gonta closer by the hair and smash their mouths together. 

Once Gonta gets over the shock, he’s like an eager puppy; gently, but quickly, wrapping an arm around Kokichi’s waist and pulling him close, smiling into the abrupt kiss. 

Of course, Gonta’s keeping it chaste. It’s still a simple press of lips, something you’d do at a middle school formal with the teachers awkwardly watching. Kokichi doesn’t do chaste. 

Gonta makes a surprised, pained sound when Kokichi’s teeth scrape against his bottom lip, before biting down hard enough to send a jolt of pain up his spine. Gonta’s mouth opens, and Kokichi uses the opportunity to stick his tongue in, licking to taste the newly-formed wound, quick and dirty and _exactly_ how he liked. 

Gonta is clearly overwhelmed, soft little noises of confusion, hurt, and pleasure leaving his mouth, but he still sits there and _takes_ it. Every yank of his hair, every rough, scathing bite against his mouth. He just takes it and doesn’t move, doesn’t disobey, doesn’t protest. 

Because he knows it takes very little to get Kokichi to push him away, cold as ice once again. It’s happened before. He knows that, and so he’s being careful and obedient, because he wants this to continue. 

Kokichi feels powerful, but most of all, he feels _wanted_.

It’s a damn good feeling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wrote this within the span of an hour and a half, so i hope it's half-decent! gonta and kokichi's size difference already gets me, but that ALONG WITH kokichi being in charge? YEAH BOYYY


	11. Chihiro/Sayaka: Sweet Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _i’m high_
> 
> _staring at the ceiling_
> 
> _sending my love_
> 
> _what a wonderful feeling_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> requested by LizzyLovesPink!! 
> 
> a pairing i've definitely never considered, but actually ended up being really adorable to think about! chihiro in any pairing is yes tbh

Chihiro really was a sweet little thing.

Especially on slow mornings like these. 

Sweet, how he snuggled deeper into Sayaka’s sleepy hold, his small hands intertwined with hers, keeping them both against his chest. Sweet, the way his hair tickled her cheek, making her consciousness stir. 

_Sugary_ sweet, when she began to stir awake and he whispered a soft, “Good morning, Sayaka.”

How lucky she was, being able to smile in such circumstances, and so soon after waking up, too. She used to hate mornings, waking up all alone in her cold bed, and that was such a weird thing to recall now...because she couldn’t get enough of them at the moment. 

All because of a certain someone, who was currently clinging to her as if he’d never let go. 

“Mornin’…” She mumbled, blowing her hair away from her face and blinking the lingering sleepiness from her eyes. “...How long have you been up, Chihiro?”

“Not super long.” 

She hummed in response, burying her face into his neck, chuckling breathily when he giggled, making mumbled protests such as _noooo, I’m ticklish, don’t!_

“Are you?” She pretended to be shocked, making sure her breathing puffs against his sensitive throat, taking in his strained little giggles. “Where? Here?”

“Y-you know I a- _ahaha_ —“ 

And that’s when she starts tickling him in earnest, her wriggling fingers moving relentlessly at his sides. His laughter takes on a hysterical note when her chilled hands slip underneath his nightgown, going to cup the soft flesh of his stomach and continue her merciless onslaught.

“S-sayaka, ahahaha, stop—“ 

“Say please.” She nuzzles along the side of his throat, pressing her lips against his thrumming pulse. Tickling up his sides, along the ridge of his ribs, even dipping lower to go at his warm thighs. 

_“Please!”_

Being a woman of her word, she let up the tickling. Begrudgingly so, but still.  
And it was just getting good, too. Drat. 

For a long moment, all was silent, aside from Chihiro’s panting as he tried to catch his breath, all flushed cheeks and lidded eyes. Sayaka realized she still has her hands underneath his gown. Chihiro is looking at her with something akin to flustered excitement, as if he were anticipating something. 

The feeling in the room shifts to something a little heavier.

Oh. 

“You look like you’re waiting for something.” She wonders aloud, pretending to be clueless. 

Chihiro downright pouts at her, and it’s absolutely adorable. What’s even more adorable is him scooting away so he could turn to face her, arms outstretched. Beckoning.

“Please.” Is all he says, and she nearly melts and gives in. Nearly. 

“I wonder what it could be….” She tapped her chin, humming. 

That was when he takes care of things himself and wraps both arms around her insistently, and begins kissing everywhere he could reach— her cheeks, her chin, her forehead. She’s the one giggling now, high in her throat as he leaves smiling little pecks against her face.

“Hahah, okay, I get it!” She barely manages to get out through laughter, cupping Chihiro’s hips, and trying her best to ignore the fact that she was inches from his underwear. Easy access, if only she were so bold. “You want a kiss, yeah?”

Chihiro finally pulls away, and the exasperated, flushed look he gives her says _duh._

Grinning, she leans back in and does exactly what he wants. 

She probably tastes like morning breath, but Chihiro accepts it and everything else with enthusiasm, making a pleased little sound into the kiss. His legs go around her waist, clinging to her like an eager little koala while she gently kneads into his hips, delighting in the little hitch of breath that happens every time she does so.

Yeah. Sweet was _definitely_ the word best used to describe Chihiro.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this made me realize i really like writing tickling? such a weird thing to like, but i may try and put it in another oneshot.


	12. Kaede/Shuichi: Dreamy Comfort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _you don’t know what you’ve got_
> 
> _'till it’s gone, my dear_
> 
> _so tell me that you love me_
> 
> _again_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kaede and shuichi is never something i particularly shipped, but his crush on her is absolutely adorable and i cried like a bitch at the chapter 1 trial :'D

The first thing Shuichi’s unconscious mind acknowledges is that he feels very warm and relaxed. He stirs, even though he was so comfortable that he could easily sleep for hours more. 

Shuichi awakens with his head in a warm, comforting lap. Sleepy, half-mast eyes look up to see Kaede looking back down at him, gaze gentle and nothing short of fond.

He scrambles to sit up, mouth open to stutter out half-formed questions because, because...

_She was supposed to be dead._

He’d seen it. Bared witness to her struggling, desperately grasping for the rope around her neck while the laughter of Monokuma echoed all around them. Until, all too soon and yet what felt like an eternity later, her struggling stopped, and then she was just hanging there, a fresh corpse. Still, and dead, and _gone_ , so why was this happening?

“Kaede!” Even saying her name makes his eyes burn. “What are— you’re....you’re gone....you...”

She leans forward, her hands reaching for him. Of course, he doesn’t dare move back, because it’s Kaede and she’s _here_ and she’s not gone anymore. It’s not hitting him yet, and so he sits there, mouth open and eyes shocked.

Her hands find his face. Cup both of his cheeks, pulling him closer. He follows, like leading a blind man to water. He follows, his breathing coming in quick, desperate little huffs because he just _can’t_ believe it. 

“Do I look gone, silly?” She says gently, fingers softly raking through his hair. It was comforting and everything he’d wanted, and that he knew he’d never get, because he thought she was _dead_. “You think some dumb little bear could beat me?”

“No.” He says dumbly, looking up at her as if she was what made the sun shine. “No, you’re...you’re right, Kaede. It’s you. Oh my gosh, it’s really _you_.”

“It sure is.” She giggles, hand at the back of his head, guiding him ever closer. He’s eye level with her now, inches away from her face, and her warm, violet eyes. “I hear you’ve made some new friends.”

“Huh?”

“Kaito and his training, for one. I’m glad you’re learning to open up and have fun.”

He vaguely questions how she knows this, how she could possibly when she hasn’t been here, but he’s too happy to linger on any inconsistencies. His eyes are still burning, and he sniffles.

“Oh...” she says, expression the slightest bit shocked. “Oh, Shuichi...don’t cry. It’s okay.”

She pats his head, and he feels as if he is the very picture of a spoiled child, crying when the one he’s wished to see the most is right here and _okay_. Why is he so upset? Why can’t he just appreciate this?

“I just...it’s really y-you.” He says through hiccuped gasping, and before he can stop himself, he’s bounding forward to hug her.

She lets out a soft _oomph_ , her back hitting the bed while he clings to her like a scared child, sniffling and hiccuping into her collar. 

It’s silent for a moment, and then he hears her laugh again. It’s quiet, and doesn’t seem to have very much humor in it at all.

“Gosh.” Is all she says at first, and then.... “Shuichi, you dunno how much I’ve missed you.”

_No_ , he wants to say, I’m the one who missed you!

“Listen, okay? I need you to hear this.” She rubs his back soothingly, voice melodic and relaxing in his ear. “You’re gonna be okay, you hear me? You can do this. You and everybody else will beat Monokuma, and you’ll all be fine.”

He’s too wrapped up in trying to keep it together, that he doesn’t notice she never once includes herself. No _we_ , just _you._

He nods against her, still crying and trying desperately to keep it down, take in everything she possibly says. Her hands go to his face again, and she pulls him up, gently forces him to look her in the eye.

“You look like a mess, but...” She says fondly, tenderly wiping the tears at the corner of his eyes. “D’you hear me, Shuichi? You know you’ve got this.”

“I,” He forces out, face crumbling. “Y-yes, I...”

“Good.” She interrupts him, and then she’s leaning closer. 

Her lips meet his forehead in a soft, lingering kiss. It makes his stomach erupt in warm, fluttering butterflies that want to come up his chest, out of his mouth. He trembles. 

“I love you.” He grinds out through tears. 

Kaede pulls back to look at him for a good, long moment. And then she smiles, and looks so _beautiful_ , and he does his best to smile back.

He wakes up in his cold, vacant bed before he can hear her say that she loves him too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm rarely in the mood to write angst, but when i am, I REALLY AM


	13. Kokichi/Miu: Roughly Sweet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _i’m bad, bad news_
> 
> _one of us is gonna lose_
> 
> _i’m the powder, you’re the fuse_
> 
> _just add some friction_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a request by keeeeebo!

Kokichi, as mean as he was, as viper-tongued and hateful to Miu—

His kisses were surprisingly pliant. Almost sweet, honestly. 

If you’d have asked Miu how this entire _thing_ between them had begun, she wouldn’t know what to tell you. One trip to his room had turned into ten, and she was the one who kept coming back, didn’t she? 

“Sit your ass down.” Kokichi casually demands, and wow, two minutes in the door and she was already getting the VIP treatment, huh.

“Real fuckin’ sweet of ya.” She says lamely, a rather poor excuse of a comeback, and obeys without another word.

It’s not the first time it’s happened, but she still blushes when he climbs into her lap. He looks even more lean and tiny when atop her chubby thighs, straddling her legs. 

He’d fucking murder her if she dared admit this, but she secretly liked how small he was. Makes it real easy to take both of his wrists in her hand, and force him to move how _she_ wants. She doesn’t do it now, because he’d have to be really good and into it to let her. 

Patience, Miu. All good things come to motherfuckers who wait.

“You sure look like you’re loving this.” He comments, slipping his arms around her shoulders, leaning in overwhelmingly close to watch her squirm. “Of course, a slut like you is happy to get it from anybody, huh?”

“S-shut up—“ She stutters, pouting. “I...I’m…”

“Yeah, yeah. Denial. We both know you love this.” He sticks his tongue out and _wags_ it at her, and she hates how much she secretly wished he’d put it to good use and just goddamn kiss her already. 

“Oh, yeah?” She challenges, a rare instance of bravery. Once in a blue moon, she actually had enough of a ballsack to talk back. “And what if I do?”

Kokichi doesn’t even blink at her. “Then put that gratitude to good use and repay the goddamn favor.”

And then he was kissing her, good and sweet and fuckin’ _nasty_ — all tongues and spit, letting a bit of the saliva dribble out the sides of their mouths, Kokichi’s thin chest already beginning to heave with the overstimulation.

She runs a manicured hand down his spine, dangerously close to dipping below, into the back of his pants. If only she was brave enough. He shudders anyway, so she counts it as a win. 

“Pull my hair.” He mumbles inbetween brief kisses, and she immediately obliges, taking both hands and grabbing the back of his stupidly-soft hair and giving it a good, rough yank. She bites his bottom lip, grinning at the high, pleased little sound he makes. 

It was another thing she so desperately loved about these little encounters. It was the only time Kokichi let her take control. Not only let her, but demanded it from her. He seemed to be into it. Hey, she wasn’t judging. In fact, it was pretty hot. 

He bites down particularly hard against her tongue, and she hisses in pain. The harsh way she yanked his hair was completely for her own satisfaction this time, but the groan from Kokichi it gave her was a definite bonus. 

When he pulled away to press lingering kisses against her jaw, she yanked him even closer, forcing him snug against her chest so she could slot her mouth over the juncture of his throat and gnaw at it like an animal gone feral, delighting in the surprised keen he makes. His hand clenches against her shoulder, wrinkling the sleeve of her uniform. 

Leaving behind irrefutable evidence that this happened, and that fact makes her happier than it should.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> people really like kokichi in most ships and that's a MOOD!!!! writing these two in a romantic context was kinda challenging, so i hope it turned out okay!
> 
> (also all the feedback this fic has been getting makes me so happy! i swear, y'all are entirely too nice to me and my dumb writing! your comments are what keep me going!)


	14. Fuyuhiko/Hiyoko: Apology

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _i'm done with your bittersweet tragedy_
> 
> _it’s no fun_
> 
> _when I’m sitting all alone_
> 
> _you’re right in front of me_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another request by keeeeebo, for a bro of theirs!

The hospital was ten times more eerie when you were alone. Hiyoko takes a nervous glance around, drawn in on herself like a skittish animal. 

Considering Hiyoko already had the sensibilities of a child, you could say the amount of horror  
was triple for her. 

Really, the entire trip here had been awful. Her feet hurt from all the walking, she was sweating underneath her kimono, and she had no one to take her frustrations out on, because she didn't _dare_ take anyone with her, or else they'd know what she was doing.

The idea of being found out in the middle of this made her skin crawl, and so she continued on quickly. Past the waiting room, past the snoozing, exhausted Mikan at the receptionist's desk. She couldn't help the sigh of relief. 

Hiyoko had been ready to sneak up on her from behind and knock her out, solely so she wouldn't be seen. That saved her some energy. Her footsteps are quick and quiet, and before she knows it, she's at the dreaded hospital room. 

_Fuyuhiko_ is plastered on the door in messy cursive, making her stomach lurch with a weird sort of anticipatory dread. 

Her hand hesitates at the knob of the door, trembling slightly. Right now, she was acting...like a coward. A dumb, idiot scaredy-cat. That wasn't gonna do. She puffs out her chest, eyebrows furrowed. She had pride, damn it! She could do this! 

With that, she yanked the door open so hard it slammed back against the wall (please don't wake Mikan up, for the love of god) and Hiyoko stomped in without a second of hesitation, puffed up like a proud cat, ready to say what she'd been mentally preparing for the entire trip, to find...

Fuyuhiko in the hospital bed with his eyes closed, narrow chest gently moving up and down. Peacefully slumbering, and unaware of Hiyoko's entrance.

She runs a hand down her tired, tired face. Of course he'd be asleep. That was _just_ her luck. 

Bandages covered his torso, safely sealing the newest wound. The newest wound… _she'd_ partially caused, huh. Hiyoko stared in silence. At the way his eyelashes fluttered every few moments, something of a grimace appearing on his face. Like he was having a bad dream, or maybe he was in pain. Even in his sleep.

She took step after step closer without realizing, as if she were in a trance. Before she knew it, she was at his hospital bed, looking down at him with an expression that was unusually somber. 

"Why..." She spoke aloud, in a dry whisper. "Why do I have to feel bad?"

Even though she was asking, Hiyoko knew. She knew exactly why guilt plagued her. 

She'd goaded him the moment he'd gotten out of the hospital, told him everyone hated him, and that he was the reason Mahiru _died_. Hiyoko remembers being so, _so angry,_ snarling at Fuyuhiko and spitting taunts like he was the cause of all her problems. 

She...she didn't know, okay? She didn't think he'd just stab himself in the stomach like that! 

_It’s not my fault, it’s not my fault, it’s not my fault_ , her mind repeats, desperate in her denial.

His small, pale hand is dangling off the side of the bed. She grabs it with both of hers, like she was making sure he was really there. Really alive. 

He feels so, so relievingly warm. The pulse at his wrist is weak, but even. 

Hiyoko’s knees crumble. She kneels on the cold, tiled hospital floor, still grasping Fuyuhiko’s hand, like a lifeline. Her eyes had been burning for a while now, and she finally lets the tears flow free. 

“I’m….I’m sorry, alright?” She whispers, breathing uneven and choppy with hiccuping sobs. “I’ll even say so when you’re awake and y-you can hear me, so you’d better pull through, you hear me, you d-dummy?”

Hiyoko remembers…

She’d injure herself in the garden, and wail childishly until her father would run to her side. Appearing like an angel itself. Gently propping her leg up and _tsk_ ing at her skinned knee, reminding her that pretty girls like her have to learn to be more careful. Then he’d seal a bandaid over it, placing a gentle kiss over her now-bandaged wound. She’d always immediately feel better, and quickly spring up to give him a hug. It was like magic. 

Hiyoko doesn’t have a bandaid big enough for this, but she still leans down to press a trembling, teary kiss to Fuyuhiko’s hand. She hopes it’ll be enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one-shot probably stumped me the most, but i hope it doesn't show too much :''D


	15. Chihiro/Miu: Her Favorite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _but she keeps me alive_
> 
> _she’s the beast in my bones_
> 
> _she gets everything she wants_
> 
> _when she gets me alone_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a request by LizzyLovesPink and Invisible_Prince!
> 
> I guess i got inspired, because this ended up pretty long by my standards :'D

Miu Iruma was a coward, in _almost_ every sense of the word. 

In terms of attitude, she was bold. Crass, vulgar and uncensored. Quick to push people, and to push boundaries, and then scale back with a whimper when someone called her out on her bullshit. 

Her favorite people were the ones who _didn’t_ have the guts to fight back, because then she had all the room in the world to fuck with them. Shuichi, Keebo, Mikan...all good options. Perfectly spineless. 

However, she had one favorite in particular. Someone so spineless, cowardly, and anxious that she just _loved_ to mess with. 

A favorite that was currently rounding the hallway, skirt moving gently with his every movement, small hands clasped in front of his chest. Followed by the smell of cherry blossoms, because his very essence wasn’t already goddamn pure enough. 

Chihiro. 

Yeah, this was gonna be fun. 

Miu couldn’t help the grin, cracking her knuckles and walking forward. Showtime. 

“Well, I’ll be fucked!” She makes sure to get nice and loud, delighting in the full-body flinch he does. “If it ain’t my favorite pretty boy.”

“M-Miu?” Chihiro mumbles out, hand clenched against his narrow chest, as if his heart was seconds away from bounding out. “Ah, h-hello…”

“Yo.” She leans down, devious grin hiding not _one_ of her bad intentions. Chihiro, to his credit, doesn’t move away or startle at the closeness. She sees him bite his lip nervously, and her grin sharpens. “You know what I’d love to do? Hang out with my favorite dude. You know where I’d love to do it? Not in the middle of this shithole.”

“Ah?” Chihiro, the poor thing, looks utterly confused and a little scared, but she’s already got him by the arm. 

She drags him along the hallway, toward the exit. 

“W-wait!” He tries to insist. “Where are we going…?”

Her hand makes its way to his waist, and she rests it low against his hip. He flushes until his entire face is engulfed in red, and Miu is just _lapping_ all of this up like a contented cat. 

“Nowhere bad, just my room.” She says cheerfully. 

Chihiro looks absolutely terrified. Miu can’t really blame him. 

Once they made it to Miu’s room, she didn’t waste time.

Chihiro’s knees hit the back of Miu’s bed, and he falls on to his back with a soft _oomph_. Miu hovers over him, arms planted on either side of his head, and takes in the scene before her. And what a scene it was.

Chihiro was clearly so, so overwhelmed, and it looked _great_. All flushed cheeks and averted eyes, looking at anything but the grinning beauty in front of him, and on top of him.

“Hiya.” She whispers. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“U-um.” Chihiro squeaks. “Hello.”

Her hand slides against her comforter, edging near his leg so close he twitches, flush deepening. Once her hand slides smoothly over his knee, and then up, up, _uuuup_ a warm, luscious thigh, he starts blabbering out questions, excuses, anything to divert attention from himself.

“I—um, why are y- how-“

“Just feelin’ the goods.” She leers. “Why so cold? You’re hurting little ol’ me’s feelings.” For good measure, she pouts, giving her biggest puppy dog expression yet. On top of having no spine, Chihiro was so stupidly sympathetic and gullible. It was kinda hot. 

“I’m s-sorry!” He quickly apologizes, looking genuinely guilty. “I-”

“I’unno if a sorry’s gonna be enough, pretty boy.” She says it like a grave omen, expression somber. “I think you need to give me a little something if you _really_ want my forgiveness.”

“Like what…?”

“Oh, nothing huge. You don’t even need to move. Much.” Miu reassures him, but her grin takes away any relief he could possibly feel. “I’ll tell ya what you need to do.”

She moves even closer, nuzzling the side of his neck _totally accidentally_ before leaning up to whisper in his red-tipped ear. “Kiss me.”

“W-WHAT?” He practically squawks which, ow, rest in peace to Miu’s poor fuckin’ eardrums.

“You heard me!” She smiles nice and wide, lifting a manicured hand to point at her mouth. “Plant one on me. Don’t be a pussy about it, either. Make it nice and sloppy.”

She didn’t mean it, of course. Not that she’d be opposed to getting a taste of those red-bitten lips, but she knew Chihiro too well to think he’d ever do it. To put it frankly, Miu really did just like fucking with him, because it was so _easy._ She felt like she had power over someone, someone so fuckin’ delectable looking, at that. Really, she could thank God, if she was stupid enough to believe in bullshit like that. 

Chihiro claps a hand over his mouth, hazel eyes blinking nonstop, like he couldn’t believe the situation he was seeing, being forced into. He was so red-faced Miu was tempted to make a comment about just how far down that blush went, but she managed to keep it in, preferring to watch the lovely scene unfolding before her. 

“B-but I can’t do that!” 

“I guess I can’t forgive you for hurting my wittle feewings.” Miu tsks, looking legitimately disappointed in him, which seems to make his guilt fester. “And I was even gonna close my eyes…”

It was silent for all of 16 and a half seconds, and then, “You...you’ll really close your eyes?”

“Totally. You won’t even need to be embarrassed.”

Chihiro actually looks as if he’s considering it, and that makes her eyebrows raise. There’s no way, surely. Surely. Or is there? No. The fuck was she even thinking. It’d be a cold day in hell before he agreed. 

“Okay.” Is said so quickly and quietly, Miu thinks she’s hearing things. She blinks. 

“Huh?”

“O...okay.” Chihiro repeats, voice squeaky. “B-but you have to let me up and close your eyes! If you open them, then...then...I’ll be u-upset!”

_He’s totally gonna book it_ , Miu thinks. There’s no way in hell he’s gonna kiss her. She would bet her left goddamn tit that he’ll get her to close her eyes, wait a few seconds, and then make a run for it, and then she’ll be able to get him for it tomorrow.

Yeah, totally.

“Sure, sure. Look at you, being so forceful and manly.” Using the words _forceful_ , or _manly_ , especially, when talking about Chihiro was laughable, but he perked up a bit at her compliment and blushed. Fuckin’ cute. So much that she kinda wants to squeeze him and watch him pop. 

Miu off of him, sitting up on her propped-up knees. Chihiro does the same, smoothing the fabric of his skirt over his thighs. She barely resists the urge to abandon all sort of etiquette and flip his skirt up like some sort of rapid caveman.

“Okay, I’m closin’ em.” She sings, making sure Chihiro sees when she licks over her bottom lip, leaving a wet shine. He swallows. “You want me to count, make it easier for ya?”

“U-um, okay…”

“Alright. On the count of three, pretty boy.” 

With that, her eyes close, and she actually doesn’t try to peek. Look at her, _not_ being a total piece of shit! Must be a full moon.

“3…”

Nothing moves. She can’t even pick up Chihiro’s breathing.

“2…”

The bed shifts with movement, creaking gently. Fabric rustles quietly. Yeah, he’s totally getting ready to run. Time to prepare for loneliness and a lack of the nice smell of sakura blossoms. 

“1.”

No sudden sound of footsteps rushing out the door. No sudden movement at all. 

For a moment, Miu thinks he simply chickened out and nearly opens her eyes. Nearly. And then the bed creaks again, and she feels the warmest, gentlest amount of pressure against her mouth.

_HOLY FUCKING SHIT._

Chihiro’s mouth is petal-soft, and gentle in it’s movement. It’s more of a peck than anything, really. It still makes Miu flush to the tips of her goddamn ears, chest heaving with her breathing because _holy fucking goddamn motherfucking shit fuck, he was actually kissing her_!

It’s over entirely too soon, and Chihiro pulls away. When she opens her eyes, he’s about as red in the face as she probably is right now. 

“Uh.” Now it was her turn to fumble for a full sentence, evidently. “Um. Holy shit. Thanks?”

Chihiro puts his flushed, flushed face in his hands and doesn’t respond.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't question why they're in the same school shhhh. hope you guys like it!
> 
> (i like writing miu in ships! she's so vulgar and crass that it's challenging to write, but fun.)


	16. Keebo/Kokichi: Human Touch PT. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _toucha toucha toucha touch me_
> 
> _i wanna be dirty_
> 
> _thrill me, chill me_
> 
> _fulfill me_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a request by StarryNoctiluca!!!!

Kokichi’s morbid fascination with Keebo’s machinery never seemed to cease. It was strange, because Keebo couldn’t help but glow under the attention of being looked at appreciatively, but even when he was technically being praised...he has an underlining feeling that Kokichi is still getting one over on him. 

It was hard to explain, and it was also happening a lot more often. 

Keebo didn’t even bat an eye when Kokichi was suddenly just _at his door_. He barely sighed when Kokichi demanded that he get on the floor again after he staked his claim on Keebo’s bed, looking the perfect picture of a spoiled prince on his throne. 

_Maybe he likes feeling tall_ , Keebo thinks, gingerly settling on to his knees, between Kokichi’s parted legs. 

“Wow! I barely had to tell you twice. Someone’s feeling like an obedient little robot today.” 

“I merely do not feel like arguing!” Keebo huffs, somewhat of a pout appearing on his face.

“Yeah, yeah. Keep pretending you don’t get a kick out of the attention.”

Kokichi wastes no time grabbing his face, cupping his cheeks and squishing them, making a sound of awe when they actually gave underneath the pressure, like a real human’s cheeks would. Keebo’s mushed expression is not amused. 

“So life-like…” Kokichi muttered, almost if he were talking to himself. “I wonder if you’d bleed when injured.” 

“I’d very much like it if you didn’t talk about such things with my face in your hands.” 

“It’s an honest question, Kee-boy!”

“Well, if you’d really like an answer…” Keebo opens his mouth, planning to continue, when Kokichi’s hand takes him by the chin and forces him still, eyes bright with fascination. Fascination directed towards...Keebo’s mouth? That was a new one. “What’re yo- _gghhhk_.”

He gags when Kokichi’s fingers are shoved in his mouth, the index and middle ones on either side of his tongue, roughly probing wherever they could reach. The look he gives Kokichi is downright scandalized, and he tries to shake his head and move away, but Kokichi’s other hand grabs him by the hair and yanks him back. 

“Hold still, dummy! I’m just examining!” He huffs like _Keebo’s_ the problem here, purple eyes narrow. “I’ll warn you next time, yada yada yada.”

Keebo goes reluctantly still. His exasperated expression voiced his thoughts clearly.

_Just hurry up._

Kokichi’s grin was not at all reassuring. His hair is let go of, and replaced with a grip against his jaw, making sure it stays wide open. Fingers move over his bottom teeth, circling the pad of his tongue. Keebo resists the urge to swallow when artificial saliva pools into his mouth, completely unwelcome and against his will. Kokichi forces his mouth open wider, and Keebo can’t help the dribble of spit that trails, lazy and embarrassing, out the side of his mouth, down his chin.

“Be proud, tincan,” Kokichi mutters, voice low and distracted. His gaze focused intensely on Keebo’s mouth. It was unsettling, and the air in the room was vaguely charged with...with _something_. Something familiar that always seemed to happen when they were alone together. When Kokichi would mess with him, too. “This is easily the most human thing on ya.”

“ _Reawwy_?” Keebo slurs around his fingers, eyes lighting up. He’d be embarrassed later about how eager he’s acting right now, but he couldn’t help it. A genuine compliment from Kokichi! It must be a full moon! (Thank Korekiyo for teaching him that phrase.) 

Kokichi’s eyes meet his. Keebo is somewhat confused to see that the black of his pupils have almost entirely engulfed the purple. Was he getting sick, maybe? Even now, humans were an anomaly to him. 

The fingers in Keebo’s mouth pull away, and he’s happy to be able to move freely again.

“Mhm. Very nice.” Kokichi says with a wide smile, and Keebo has a feeling he’s being pandered to now, and he doesn’t know why that worries him. “I’m gonna need you to do a couple things for me, before this experiment is over. Just so I can get the full awesome, incredible, and amazing experience that is _you_.”

“Um…” Keebo says, eyes flitting about in slight confusion. “Okay, I suppose?”

“Great! Knew you could do it.” Kokichi responds proudly. “First thing, sit beside me.”

Keebo rises up on knees that’re strangely shaky, plopping down on to the bed, next to Kokichi, who looks pleased at his wordless obeying. Keebo feels a bit like a domesticated dog. Seeing Kokichi genuinely pleased with something _Keebo_ did made the robot a little too happy. 

“Good boy.” Kokichi goes so far as to reach up and pat his head, albeit mockingly. 

The quiet of the room lengthened. And lengthened. When Keebo looked at him questioningly, Kokichi looked like he was heavily mulling something over. Trying to make some sort of decision, maybe?

A literal split-second before Keebo opens his mouth to question Kokichi, he’s suddenly chest to chest with the other boy, his back hitting the bed with the force he’s shoved down. A mouth is against his, rough and inexperienced in movement. 

_So this is a kiss_ , Keebo’s half-dazed, half-paralyzed brain thinks. 

It’s hot and _wet_ and overwhelming, too many feelings unloading into Keebo’s poor sensors for him to even begin to keep up. A tongue, one that isn’t his, is in his mouth and he has _no idea_ what to do. His chest plate is flooded with warmth, so heated that it makes his breathing come in short, desperate little puffs. 

Kokichi tastes like sugary soda, and Keebo actually doesn’t mind it. Granted, he’s too overwhelmed to really mind much of anything, but still. 

When Kokichi finally pulls away, he’s grinning. Of course he is. His mouth is red-flushed and swollen, and Keebo can’t help but stare when his tongue kitten-licks over his bottom lip. 

“Well, I’ll be damned. This may be my favorite experiment yet, Kee-boy. You’re not a total failure, good job!”

“T-thanks…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i feel like every kokichi/keebo fic i write has very blatant sexual subtext :'D i swear, i love them in a pure context too! i hope anyone who reads enjoyed!
> 
> (also, i officially finished drv3!!!! that ending was an absolute mindfuck that i _think_ i loved? i'unno, i'm too tired to voice many thoughts, but i'm excited to play the after-game dating sim! I'M COMING FOR YOU KEEBO)


	17. Byakuya/Makoto: Kneeling Apologies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _if I put my hands around your wrists_
> 
> _would you fight them?_
> 
> _if I put my fingers in your mouth,_
> 
> _would you bite them?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is actually a one-shot i posted previously as a standalone a couple months back, but i added a bit more to it and decided to post it here because i'm probably gonna write a sequel sometime! i love this ship to death tbh.

Naegi Makoto was the definition of a pushover.

Stuttering, averted eyes, idiot disposition— really, you could go on and on. 

Even his appearance seemed to be molded for a submissive, idiotic dog of a human. Short and plain, all wide eyes and naivety, his lack of height and muscle mass being the only thing to stick out about his looks. 

Truly, he was a loser. Through and through. 

But actually getting on your knees to beg to the likes of Toko... 

Byakuya had been enraged when he'd gotten wind of it, and he didn't even know why. The ignorant dimwit could embarrass himself all he wants. 

Except that it's been three days, and Byakuya hasn't stopped thinking about it. It crossed his mind more than the game, what held his and everyone else's _lives_ in its hands. Really, this was becoming a problem.

A problem that was currently sitting across from him, not even pretending to be enraptured in the book he'd half-heartedly grabbed before plopping down on a library chair. 

It was perplexing. He'd done nothing but ridicule the boy (rightfully so) but he kept crawling back, not assertive enough to ever demand anything from Byakuya, and also not spineless enough to quit bringing his commoner stench into Byakuya's space. 

First the willing begging, and now this. 

Maybe he was a masochist. It certainly suited his appearance and personality.

"You." Byakuya finally snapped, and Makoto jumped slightly in his chair. "Why are you here?"

"To, uh—" There goes that squeaky voice. Christ. "To read...?"

Byakuya sent a pointed glance to the book in his slackened, disinterested grasp. It was upside down. Makoto realized this and flushed, one of the few expressions on him that didn't make Byakuya want to hit something, strangely enough. 

"Someone like you doesn't read for enjoyment." Byakuya closed his book with an audible snap, putting his full attention on this ordeal. Makoto clumsily did the same.

"Now, I'm going to ask again. Why are you constantly tailing me? Do you fancy being my lap dog or something?"

"O-of course I don't!" Makoto protested. His hands were fists, clenched on top of his legs. A sign of nerves."I just...I just wanted—"

"Go bother someone else about it." Byakuya was losing interest, and fast. He could just feel the upcoming lecture about needing to team up and working together is the only way and all that other nonsense. "Why not Toko, in fact?"

"...Why would I go to her specifically?" Makoto looked confused. 

"Oh, you know." Byakuya waved a hand. "You had no problem getting down on all fours at her request, begging like some sort of desperate mongrel. You two are close, I presume."

Makoto's expression shifted, and this was about the closest Byakuya's seen him look to being annoyed. Genuinely annoyed, even if it was muffled by nervousness. 

"I had to do that!" He exclaimed. My, was he pouting? The length of his childish ways grew ever longer. "It wasn't even Toko, it was genocide Jack. If I hadn't done that, we wouldn't have gotten the information we needed!"

"Sure you wouldn't." Byakuya's voice dropped with sarcasm, because he could certainly play the childish act too. His annoyance had grown each and every time this little brat had dared show up in his presence, sticking his nose into his business, and Byakuya couldn't help putting every bit of past and current frustration into his words. 

"Why are you so mad...?" Makoto's voice grew quieter. "Do you want me to apologize? I don't know what I did to upset you, but I'm sorry, Byakuya. Okay?"

The progeny looked at him a moment, considering. A beat of silence passed, and then two. 

"If you're really sorry, how about you get on all fours and really apologize? You seem to be accustomed to that, after all."

Makoto looked mortified, face crumpling quite satisfyingly. 

He hadn't meant that literally, of course. A rhetorical taunt, something to rile the Makoto up and hopefully make him storm off and leave Byakuya to his books, peace, and silence. 

That's why he nearly choked on his own saliva when Makoto got up without a word, went right in front of him, and did exactly what he'd asked. 

The boy kneeled onto the hard floor, hands clasped pleadingly in front of him. A bowed head bared a pale neck as his eyes trained on the ground. 

Byakuya was damn near slack-jawed. 

Curled in on himself like this, he looked all the more small. He really was a tiny thing. Byakuya distantly wondered just how slender he'd look without all those unnecessary layers on. Just for curiosity’s sake, of course.

"I'm...I'm sorry." He mumbles, looking unsure of himself. His eyes trailed up to focus on Byakuya, uncertain. "Was that okay?"

_Was that okay._ Good god. Byakuya was having a fever dream, wasn't he. 

"You don't look like you mean it." He would blame whatever he said on temporary insanity. That was all this was. "With Toko, you really put your all into it. I'm disappointed, Naegi."

This best (and worst) part was Makoto looking genuinely guilty, shoulders slumping. 

"I don't know what to do... " 

"You're hopeless." Byakuya rested against his hand, braced on the table, feigning boredom. "For starters, come closer."

Makoto hesitated, so Byakuya snapped, "Do you want my forgiveness or not?"

That seemed to work. 

The boy rushed to get up, but was stopped by a raised hand. "Ah, ah. A proper apology won't do with that. Crawl."

He looked a cross between baffled and flustered, two of Byakuya's least hated expressions for him. What a treat this was. 

He obeyed with the barest hesitation and no vocal protests, refusing to look at Byakuya as he did so. 

When all was said and done, he was inches away from Byakuya's crossed legs, looking as if he hadn't a single clue what was happening anymore.

"Good." The praise slipped out accidentally, but that way Makoto perked up, staring up at him with something akin to hope in his eyes, was _certainly_ interesting. Like the family dog wanting a belly rub. "Now apologize properly."

Head meeting the floor as he bent down in earnest, joined hands nearly touching Byakuya's shoes. That gave Byakuya an eyeful of his hair, unruly as it was. 

Much too long, too wild. It made him want to fist a hand into it and pull, hear what sort of sounds, whining protests and pleas, Makoto would make. Another day, perhaps. 

"I'm sorry." Makoto spoke clearly, voice only slightly muffled by the floor. "Please forgive me... "

With that, he rose up, enough to be able to look up at Byakuya with pleading, hopeful eyes. 

His mouth was awfully dry all of a sudden. He swallowed it back and gave no attention to the thrumming of his own heartbeat in his ears. 

Makoto flinched when the sole of Byakuya's shoe nudged against his shoulder, before staying there. Applying no pressure, just simply letting his foot rest there, mere inches from a vulnerable throat. 

He licked his lips, and didn't miss Makoto tracking the movement. He was beginning to think that flush of red, resting high on his cheekbones and the tips of his ears, wasn't just from embarrassment. 

Byakuya bent down before he could properly consider what he was doing. Long, skilled fingers combed through Makoto’s messy hair, as if Byakuya was petting a dog. The boy on all fours before him certainly resembled one, with his overtly cutesy expressions and idiotic naivete. 

Both of which that Byakuya utterly despised, of course. _Nothing_ else. 

His hand trails, leisure and unusually gentle, down Makoto’s neck, moving to cup his cheek for a moment. He can feel Makoto’s breath, and pick up on how uneven and shaky it’s become, all because of Byakuya. The rush of power that gives him is probably concerning, but he’s too busy riding the high to think about it. 

He’s cupping Makoto’s chin now, forcing his head up and attentive. Now those doe eyes were exactly where they should be: trained up at Byakuya. 

His thumb slides up and across, brushing over Makoto’s bottom lip in a way that’s anything but accidental. Then again, the way Makoto leans eagerly into his touch, mouth pressed kiss-light against his hand...probably couldn’t be called an accident either. 

How eager to please Makoto was. It makes warmth gather in Byakuya’s stomach, threatening to consume him whole. 

"I think," Byakuya said, and his voice was noticeably lower. He cleared his throat and tried again. "I think you can be forgiven."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> byakuya's one of those asshole characters that make me go from "wow he's an ass" to "wow he's an ASS <3"


	18. Gonta/kokichi: Gentleman Practice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _tell me, have you ever had a gentleman?_
> 
> _if not, then girl, you deserve a gentleman_
> 
> _eat you out for dinner like a gentleman_
> 
> _knock before I enter like a gentleman_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more gonta/kokichi, as requested by Destiny Luna!
> 
> (also, THANKKKK YOU GUYS SO MUCH FOR A 100 KUDOS :') that's crazy, i never expected this silly little fic to get as much attention as it did! you guys and your feedback are always so sweet, thank you so much again :''D)

“You wanna be a gentleman, huh?”

Kokichi’s unimpressed voice did nothing to dim Gonta’s shining, bright enthusiasm. He nods quickly, a hopeful smile plastered on to his face. 

“And you want...my help.” Kokichi finishes, monotone. 

Being woken up by Gonta’s hard, fast knocking against his door wasn’t a good way to start his day, or his good mood. He couldn’t be blamed for his unwillingness to play along. It was _six in the goddamn morning_. Kokichi leaned back against his bed, legs crossing delicately, and waited for whatever the hell Gonta’s about to say. Not that he cared, because he didn’t, _at all_ , but he couldn’t exactly tell him to leave. 

It was like kicking a puppy; Kokichi just didn’t feel like hearing it scream and whine afterward. 

Another rapid nod from Gonta, followed by a smiling chirp of, “Yes!”

“Why?” Kokichi couldn’t look and sound any more disinterested if he tried. 

“Gonta...Gonta think Kokichi know a lot! Lot of smart stuff.” The goliath of a man admits, eyes shyly drawn downward. “Kokichi friend. Friend...help each other.”

Slowly, Kokichi’s expression shifts. Disinterest, mild annoyance, and then a hint of consideration. 

“And?” Back to cold. He couldn’t help it, alright. 

“Kokichi say...Gonta should only come to him for help.” Gonta gently reminded him, voice quieter. 

Kokichi _does_ recall saying that. Then, like a metaphorical bulb going off next to his head, he sat up straighter and faced Gonta, a pleased little grin beginning to stake claim on his face. 

Little did Gonta know, that was probably because he’d realized a way to make this situation go into a direction that _he_ found entertaining. Which was never good for anyone else involved, but whatever. 

“Gonta, you’re _soooo_ right!” He claps Gonta on the shoulder, both startling and pleasing the giant in question. “Gee, you’re so smart. Good job for coming to me.”

“Thank you!” He beams, all dimples and white, straight teeth. Kokichi decided, right then, that he’d get one of those open-mouth gags one day for Gonta. Easy access to stick fingers in there, or whatever else Kokichi may want to add, and _really_ explore. 

But fantasies aside. Back to the topic at hand. 

“You’re welcome. See? You’re already halfway there. Gentlemen say thank you.” 

You’d have thought he’d just told Gonta that world peace had been found. The boy’s smile got even brighter, and if he didn’t know Kokichi’s rules concerning touching, he’d have probably just given him a bear hug. 

“Now then. First, I think we should cover one of the most important topics regarding being a gentlemen.”

“Uh-huh,” Gonta prompts eagerly, chin in his palm.

“Romance!” Kokichi exclaims, arms spreading dramatically. “Dates, kissing, kissing without pants on, et cetera.” 

“Romance?” Gonta gasps.

“Indeed. You wanna know how to please your lady friend, _riiiiight_?”

“Oh, yes!” Gonta says excitedly, before his shoulders slump and his happy face goes slack. “But Gonta no have lady friend.”

“For right now, you do, champ. She’s right here.” Kokichi says smugly, crooked finger pointing toward himself. 

Gonta stares. And stares some more. Eyebrows furrowing, mouth parted.

“Kokichi...lady?”

“Not literally, you moro-“ Kokichi interrupts himself with a cough, just barely managing to avoid that last part. Be nice, be nice. “I mean, it’s just for practice. You can pretend I’m a lady, can’t you?”

Gonta looks Kokichi up and down, in what seems to be serious consideration. Finally, he gives a resolute nod.

“Yes. Kokichi pretty like lady.”

Kokichi, most certainly not blushing, at all, not even _slightly_ , decides to blatantly ignore that last bit and push forward with the practice. 

“Okay, first things first…” Kokichi put a finger to his chin, thinking. “Kissing! You do know the basics, right? Not slipping her the tongue on the first date, stuff like that.”

“Slipping...lady... the tongue?” Gonta repeats, confused, head cocking to the side.

Kokichi couldn’t help the half-concealed laugh that escaped him. Oh, this was _great_. And he didn’t even mean that sarcastically!

“Don’t worry about it, Gonta. That’s step 7. We’re on 1.” He says, and then holds his hand out. “Pretend we’re meeting at a fancy, _faaancy_ restaurant. You paid a lot to get tail as fine as mine, yada yada. You see me, I hold my hand out. What do you do?”

Gonta looks at Kokichi’s hand as if it could bite him. He looks up again, meeting the boy’s eyes. Questioning and hesitant.

Oh, right. Permission and such.

“Yes, you can touch me.” Kokichi grins.

With that, he eagerly took Kokichi’s small hand in both of his.They completely engulfed Kokichi’s. Gonta’s hands were as warm and calloused as they were gentle. Kokichi hated it. Totally. 

“Hold hands?” Gonta asks excitedly.

“Mm, close.” Kokichi snatches his hand out of Gonta’s lax grip, going to dangle his fingers in front of his face. “You kiss it! It’s just how you greet ladies, my sweet prince.”

“Ooooh!” Gonta says, awed. “Gonta kiss?”

“Gonta do, indeed, kiss.” 

Gonta hesitantly leans forward. Kokichi watches, holding his breath for reasons he couldn’t place. 

Gentle, soft lips end up against Kokichi’s knuckles and linger there, sending feather-light shivers up his spine. Kokichi swallows. Three seconds pass, and then five, and then ten. Gonta’s eyes are closed; fluttering eyelashes longer than he’d ever noticed before.

Ears and face burning, Kokichi snatched his hand away and rushed to get up.

“Okay, okay, that’s all for today!” He ushers Gonta out quickly, not looking him in the eye all the while. “You get a solid B, big guy. Good job, love you, you’re the best. Now leave me be.”

“Oh, uh-” Gonta stutters out, confused, and then the door slams behind him. “...Thank you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i went a slightly softer route with them (well, as soft as i CAN make kokichi-- boy's just too devious) and i hope anyone who reads enjoyed :D!


	19. Keebo/Shuichi: Spin The Bottle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _no one even knows how hard life was_
> 
>  
> 
> _i don't even think about it now_
> 
>  
> 
> _because_
> 
>  
> 
> _i finally found you_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just finished dating keebo in the after-game dating sim, and i have decided that i love him with all my heart. i knew that before, but gosh, he's just too cute! i've always shipped him and shuichi, but i've only ever tried to write them in a fic today. 
> 
> hope you guys like it :D!

Honestly, Keebo was just participating in this out of curiosity. Also, everyone had pitched in to play. Tsumugi, Shuichi, Kokichi, Gonta, Miu, Himiko, Maki, and Kaito. 

So why shouldn’t he? It would help further unite them, he was certain. Boost morale. But, um...

Maybe he should’ve had someone explain this so-called _spin the bottle_ to him, because now...

“Oh, my...” Tsumugi whispered.

“Ooooh!” Gonta nudged Kokichi with his massive hand, alerting the previously-bored boy of what’d just occurred. Kokichi suddenly looked a lot more interested, his grin widening as he took in the scene before him. “Look!”

“It was my magic.” Himiko says solemnly. 

“A’course my sidekick gets first try!” Kaito wolf-whistles, and Maki fondly rolls her eyes. “Go get ‘em, tiger!”

“Get to it, homos!” Miu cheers. 

This was incredibly confusing. 

Everyone’s staring was beginning to unnerve him. Really, what was so shocking? 

Shuichi, whom Keebo’s bottle had landed on, looked downright surprised. And a little red-faced. Keebo hopes he isn’t getting sick.

“Erm,” Keebo says, head cocked. “Do I win something? Does Shuichi, perhaps?” 

“Yeah,” Miu whistles. “You win something, alright! And that something is Shuichi’s tongue _shoved_ down your fuckin’ thr-“

“Okay, Miu, that’s enough!” Shuichi, sounding the most uncomfortable Keebo has ever heard, rushed to interrupt her. 

“His tongue shoved where?” Keebo didn’t understand this. He looked toward Shuichi, eyebrows drawn together. “Your tongue is going where, exactly? I am quite confused.”

“I...” Shuichi runs a hand down his tired, flustered face. “Oh, goodness.”

“What he means is...” Kokichi’s slithering tone made him finally look away from Shuichi. The boy’s eyes were narrowed, and Keebo immediately doesn’t trust his smile. “You two...y’know.”

He bumps his fists together, eyebrows waggling suggestively.

This did not help Keebo understand any better. Shuichi still looks like he’d rather be anywhere else than here. Kaito and Maki are preoccupied with their own conversation. Himiko is half-asleep, her eyes lidded and tired, head rapidly drooping. Miu, Gonta and Tsumugi look a little _too_ interested in this situation.

“I understood virtually none of that.” Keebo confesses. ”Forgive me, could someone please explain it once more?”

“It very simple!” Gonta says cheerfully. “You...Shuichi....touch mouth.”

“Huh?”

“You...” Gonta makes an effort to drag out every single word, as if that made understanding it any easier. “Shuichi...kiss. _Mwah_. Like that!”

What. 

“Gonta, you’re sooooo smart,” Keebo briefly compliments the giant, his tone saccharine, and reaches out to pat him on the arm. Gonta blushes at the flattery. If Keebo knew such a concept, he’d have rolled his eyes. “But yeah, you two gotta kiss.”

“Uh?” Keebo says, very much not processing what in the world Kokichi really just said. Kiss. Kiss. He knew the word, but he still ran it through his processors, more than once. 

_kiss:_  
/kis/  
touch with the lips as a sign of love, sexual desire, reverence, or greeting. 

Oh. 

All at once, his stone-faced expression of confusion turned bright blue with his flush, and he directed his gaze to his fidgeting hands in his lap. 

Kiss. 

He stole a look toward Shuichi. He appeared to be about in the same boat as Keebo, red-faced and avoiding eye contact with literally everyone. 

Keebo briefly glares down at the bottle. The bottle, still pointing toward Shuichi. Like an accusation. 

_Do it, you coward_ , says the bottle’s shining aura. 

Keebo decided right then that he would throw it out the second he got the opportunity. 

“C’mon, hurry it up!” Miu whines. “I’ve heard of playin’ hard to get, but this is goddamn silly. Just kiss! Tongue-fuck! Peck each other! Do _somethin’_!”

“Yes!” Tsumugi blurts out. “Show them your final form, you guys! Your final, conjoined form of love, that is!”

_What does that even mean._

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” Kokichi begins to chant. Gonta joins in immediately, smile bright. “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

“Okay, that’s enough!” Keebo finally shouts. 

Everyone quiets down, thankfully, and he sighs. His facial machinery is still burning too hot, and he fans himself with a hand. “Listen...I really did wish to participate in this _spin the bottle_ , but I had no idea that this is what the game entailed.”

“So you’re a coward.” Kokichi adds helpfully.

“ _So_ I do not wish to make Shuichi uncomfortable,” Keebo blatantly ignores him, tone clipped with annoyance. “As I’m sure he wouldn’t want to kiss me, s-“

“I don’t mind.” Shuichi’s voice is so quiet that Keebo just barely catches the end of what he’d said.

“You...what?”

“I…” If Keebo didn’t know any better, he’d have thought someone had thrown a pink paint-ball at Shuichi’s face, with how much the poor human was blushing. “I said I don’t mind, Keebo. I participated because I knew what the game was for, didn’t I?”

“You participated because Kaito made you and said that you wouldn’t kiss anybody, just ten minutes before.” Maki interrupts, eyebrow raised. Kaito nods his agreement. “What’s with the sudden turnaround?”

Silence. Aside from Himiko’s snoring. 

“ANYWAY,” Shuichi coughs, avoiding eye contact with the both of them. “Keebo, we’re...we’re friends, aren’t we?”

Keebo’s chest compartment grows warm with _something_. He didn’t know what, but he knows that it makes him feel overwhelmingly happy. 

“Of course we are.” Keebo responds, tone uncharacteristically soft.

“Then we can do this. It’s just a game.” Shuichi scoots closer, and oh, _goodness_ , this was...um. Keebo’s processors couldn’t quite say what this was, but it was making him jittery.

Filled with dread and excitement, all in one nauseating mixture. This may be the most human he’s ever felt. What an occasion for it, too.

“You’re right,” Keebo agrees, and swallows, eyes shifting nervously. He nearly jumps when Shuichi’s hand is suddenly against his knee, and Miu’s _oooh_ does nothing to help his blush. “So, um...how do we..?”

“I don’t really know.” Shuichi admits, looking as lost as Keebo is.

In a way, it made Keebo feel better, knowing that they had equal levels of experience. As in, absolutely none. But...now they had no idea where to take this. 

This was a baffling situation, indeed. 

“Just fuckin’ kiss!” Miu interrupts his inner-monologue, sounding frustrated. “It’s easier than ya think, just mash your faces together and _wham_ , you’re making out.”

“I hate to agree with Miu, but she’s right.” Kokichi says cheerfully. “Just go for it. Don’t be afraid to slip in some tongue, too.” 

“Be like gentlemen!” Gonta gently reminds them. “Slow and nice.”

“Don’t embarrass me, sidekick!” Kaito yells, arm slung around Maki’s shoulder, who couldn’t look like she cared less about any of this. 

“Nyeh?” Himiko mutters, having just woken up. 

“Final form, you guys!” Tsumugi says, and Keebo still has _no idea_ what that means. 

Keebo finally looks back to Shuichi. He’s still flustered, but his smile is welcoming. Suddenly, all the heckling in the room isn’t what he’s focused on. Just Shuichi. 

Shuichi, and his warm, gentle eyes, and even warmer smile. Shuichi, who was rapidly becoming his dearest friend. _Shuichi_.

Finally, Keebo screwed his eyes shut, leaned in close, and did the only thing he could do. 

Kiss Shuichi.

Cheers erupted all around them, but Keebo could barely hear it. If he had blood, he’s certain it would be rushing to his own ears. Shuichi’s lips are pliant and soft against his own, and the detective is quick to wrap an arm around Keebo’s neck and pull him in close, making a pleased sound into the kiss. 

The buzz of excited conversation is all around.

“This is fuckin’ hot! Anyone got a camera?” Miu is practically salivating. 

“Is that tongue I see? Nyehe, you guys _are_ pervs.”

“There’s my sidekick! Maki-roll, look!” 

“Nyeeeeeh?” Himiko still has no idea what’s happening. 

Keebo was too busy kissing Shuichi like his life depended on it to listen to them. 

Spin the bottle, huh. What a strange game.

Maybe he wouldn’t throw the bottle out anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> writing so many people in one setting was a HURDLE, i hope it came out okay! ;u;


	20. Angie/Miu: Cuddling and Bribes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _across the room_
> 
> _you've got me blushing_
> 
> _i've gotta, gotta crush_
> 
> _just like a gold rush!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a request by keeeeebo!!!
> 
> i'm very sick atm (right when i'm graduating too lol, what a time) but this was surprisingly fun to write! miu in general is a blast and angie's very refreshing, so them combined is really something else!

Leave it to Angie to be a fuckin’ clinger. 

Laying together on Miu’s bed had turned into Angie snoring peacefully into Miu’s shoulder, her leg wrapped tight ‘round the other girl’s hip. Petite, soft arms clung to Miu, their grip sleepy but firm. 

Miu’s stare directed at nothing was one that was filled with despair. 

It was like having a cat fall asleep on you. You couldn’t just _disturb the goddamn cat_ , now could you? No! 

Except that it’d been two and a half hours, and Miu can only preoccupy herself with internal dirty jokes and thoughts of new inventions for so long. As in, about thirty minutes before she wants to jump off a goddamn building and end it all.

Hell, even the excitement of Angie’s weird swimsuit outfit ( _‘s practically like cuddling while she’s in a bra and panties!_ is what Miu’s mind had screamed for the entire first ten minutes, because she’s clearly 12 years old.) had lost its charm. 

She was uncomfortable, stiff (and not in the fun way) and worst of fucking all, _bored_. Being bored was the worst possible thing an inventor could be! Especially one of her genius caliber.

“....Angie?” Miu finally says, reluctant and quiet.

No response. Of course. 

“Oi, god complex.” She tries again, louder, head raising to glare down at the girl snuggling into her chest. “You can cop a feel later, just lemme get up!”

“Mmhm.” Is all she gets, followed by the leg against her waist clinging tighter. Soft, blonde hair tickled Miu’s collar. 

“Atua said to let me up.” Miu tries as a last ditch effort, beginning to pout. “He’ll, uh, make it rain blood if you don’t. Boy, he’s hella pissed.”

“Atua said no such thing.” Angie says sleepily.

“So you are awake!” Miu accuses, scandalized. 

“I am not.” Angie had the nerve to say that, in a tone that was clear as day and _not_ laced with tiredness, smiling into the curve of Miu’s throat. She perks up when another last-ditch idea comes to her. 

“...I gotta piss.” She says convincingly.

“How unfortunate.” Angie replies simply, and Miu deflates like a sad balloon. 

“You’re fuckin’ heartless, you know that…”

“That is not nice.” Angie’s breath ghosts over Miu’s skin, and the girl resists a shudder. Christ. 

“I’m not goddamn nice, blondie.”

“True.” 

Miu slumps back against the bed, exasperated gaze directed toward the ceiling. Well, time to be here until she died. What a life she lived, only to now be slowly killed by some half-naked hippie girl with a nice ass. Truly poetic, she tells ya.

Until, finally, like a miracle from some God (not Atua, because fuck that guy)...one more, _super-duper-last-ditch-effort idea_ pops into her mind. 

She can’t help the smirk working it’s way on to her mouth, devious and toothy. 

“It's a shame.” She says casually. “I was planning on giving you a kiss and all that. Y’know, if you _were_ awake.”

Angie stiffens, and Miu’s smirk widens. _Got her. For real this time_.

“Maybe...perhaps I could get up.”

“Oh, no. Don’t bother, you’re clearly exhausted. These nice, beautiful lips of mine will just have to stay lonely.”

“Atua says that the right path is for me to awaken.” Angie finally raises her head, staring down at Miu with lidded, eager eyes that make her heart pound. “And he also says that you should kiss me.”

“Too bad I don’t listen to that motherfucker.” Miu manages to retort, but it comes out breathless. 

She half-expects Angie to get offended, but as always, the girl overcomes her expectations.

“Well, Atua says you definitely should not kiss me.” It comes out coy and even a little flirtatious, and Miu’s face goes warm. “He is very adamant about it.”

Angie, coy and flirty? She’ll be damned. 

“Well…” Miu trails off, wrapping both arms around Angie’s neck, seeing her face flush pleasantly at the contact. “Guess I know what I gotta do, huh?”

Angie leans down, so close their noses are nearly touching. Her smile is saccharine, and Miu could appreciate it all day. Despite the lack of patience, and all that. “I suppose you do.”

When their lips meet, Angie tastes faintly like sleep and also the parfaits they’d had for dessert in the cafeteria earlier, and it’s pretty fuckin’ heavenly. Probably worth the two and a half hour bored-fest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope anyone who reads enjoyed!! i can't believe i'm already at chapter 20 of this fic, it feels like days ago that i started it :''D


	21. Byakuya/Makoto: Heady, flushed Apologies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _show me sex appeal_
> 
> _get on your hands and knees_
> 
> _forget about the meal_
> 
> _it's best to keep me pleased_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm tired and a little sad but i love these boys! i write them probably wrong tbh, but something about the unhealthy, dependent dynamic with these two....it never fails to inspire me. this is probably the most explicit thing in this whole fic, along with the keebo/kokichi wireplay chapter

Shy, nerve-ridden Makoto was truly Byakuya's favorite kind.

Byakuya wasn't even all that upset at him, and this whole thing had started over something so minor and unimportant, but...

What can he say? He liked being apologized to.

It wasn’t admirable, or by _any_ means healthy, but then again…what exciting things were?

Right now, it was just the two of them in the cafeteria. Makoto hadn't worked up the guts to say anything yet, but it was just so blatantly obvious that Byakuya had to hold back a smirk. The way his hands fidgeted, how his eyes slid over to Byakuya before shifting away nervously. 

Makoto was so bad at subtlety that it could nearly be called endearing, if Byakuya was ever nice enough to say such a thing. 

“U-um, Byakuya?” 

Bingo. All it took was 3 and a half minutes, too. Makoto really was a weakling. 

Byakuya merely turned to look at him, albeit for the first time since he’s shown up. He took pride in his ability to give a good, soul-crushing unimpressed expression, and Makoto’s kicked puppy eyes tell him that he succeeded. 

“What?” It comes out cold, and he follows the snapped retort up with a sigh. Makoto flinches, shoulders tense. 

“About earlier…” He drags out, and then his voice gets whisper-quiet. “Are you mad?”

“I’m not angry.” Byakuya states calmly, watching Makoto’s expression turn hopeful. “I’m just disappointed that you’d _knowingly_ do something that would upset me.”

Disappointment implied that Byakuya had hope in Makoto before, and he knew that the other boy would pick up on that. It was textbook, really. Make him feel lower than low, and get him looking nice and pitiful with just a few venomous words. 

Makoto looks crushed, and that’s exactly what he’d been aiming for. Call him cruel if you wish. It wasn’t like he was going to leave the little runt like that.

He truly never changed, and that predictability is exactly what Byakuya liked about him. He knew what was coming, in about 3, 2, 1...

“I’m sorry.” Makoto mumbles. When Byakuya finally looks at him, he sees that his head is bowed. “Please don’t be upset.”

“I’ll feel what I please.”

“What...what can I do to earn your forgiveness?” Makoto swallows, and when he meets Byakuya’s gaze, he looks so sincere that it actually manages to catch him off guard. 

“Hm,” Byakuya keeps his poker face; picks at his nails carelessly. “I can think of a good start. Get on your hands and knees.”

“Huh?” There’s the wide-eyed, stupid look he so dearly cherished. 

“I don’t like repeating myself.” His eyes narrow. “You heard me.”

Makoto looks at him, and then looks at the floor, and then looks back up at him again. His face flushes, whether it be from nerves or something else.

“But...the others…” He takes a brief look toward the door, where any student could pop in. At any moment. “What if they…?”

“Well, if you don’t want them getting in on the show…” Byakuya grinned, and it held nothing but dried, festering maliciousness. “I’d say you should hurry up.”

Makoto’s flush deepens. He’s slow to drop to his knees, but once he does, Byakuya leans forward in his seat. 

Not being subtle about the amount he was paying attention, and letting Makoto know that. Letting him bask in the attention, because they both knew that he ate it up. Whether he admitted it or not. 

An idea comes to him, and he raises a hand, signaling for Makoto to cease moving. “Ah-ah! I want you to take your jacket off before you continue.”

_“What?”_

“Both of them.” Byakuya sends an unimpressed look at Makoto’s poor, stuffy fashion choices. “It’s a little hot in here, don’t you think? You certainly look as if you’re feeling the heat. Your face is so _red_ , after all. I’m doing you a favor, aren’t I?”

It’s silent for a bit. Byakuya doesn’t let up, and stares at the boy with raised eyebrows. There was no _if he was going to obey_ , here. Just when. 

Finally, Makoto exhales. It comes out shaky. His hands trail toward his unbuttoned gakuran top. 

The sound of fabric hitting the floor was overwhelmingly satisfying. His fingers stay glued to that horrendous coat he likes to wear, and he looks back up at Byakuya, eyebrows drawn.

Byakuya merely tilted his head. _Get on with it, will you?_

Finally, Makoto does. _Ziiiiiip_. Slow and pausing. Not even halfway down yet. 

What a tease. 

“You’re looking less overheated by the minute.” Byakuya observes, knowing damn well the school thermostat was at the lukewarm, slightly-chilly setting it’s always been at. “Thanks to me.”

“Uh-Huh.” Makoto sounds obedient. If not somewhat overwhelmed. When he pauses in his task and looks back up at Byakuya, his eyes are lidded. “Thank you, Byakuya.”

_Ziiiiiiiiiiiiiip._

His ears suddenly go hot, and he swallows back the butterflies piling in his stomach. Good Christ.

Makoto’s other coat hits the floor as well, leaving him in a thin, wrinkled undershirt. Without all the bulk of unnecessary clothing, he looked even more petite than he already did. 

He could probably lift the little runt with one arm. Maybe dangle him upside down, listen to his annoying whining, and watch him flail helplessly. 

If only Byakuya could indulge in such childish things. Perhaps another day, when he wasn’t already completely preoccupied with a different kind of teasing Makoto. 

“Good.” Byakuya finally says, smirking when Makoto perked up, eyes wide and hopeful. Such a dog. “Now, you know what to do.”

That he did, and he didn’t waste time. He crawled toward Byakuya, delicate knees and hands against the dirtied cafeteria floor. 

With his position, the shirt droops toward the floor enough to give Byakuya a good, long look at the narrow chest hidden beneath. 

He entertains the idea of what’d it feel like to snake a hand in that oversized shirt, feeling whatever he could reach, and delighting in Makoto’s flustered gasp.

Once again, perhaps another day. 

Makoto is in front of Byakuya’s dress shoes before he knows it, and he wastes no time bowing his head. Byakuya stares at the delicate curve of his spine, at the way his hips flared out slightly. 

He wonders, just for a moment, if Makoto would have obeyed, had Byakuya demanded that last shirt come off as well.

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” It’s loud and overly-apologetic, because Makoto wasn’t a saint either. He knew just what to say, and how to act, in order to gain favor. “I promise you, I won’t do it again. Can you forgive me?”

“Hm…” Byakuya pretends to think about it, finger tapping against his chin. “I’ll have to see if you’re sincere. Look at me.”

Just like that, Makoto does. He’s flushed, heavily so, and breathing heavily. His hands are clenched into fists against the floor. 

“What a face.” 

When Byakuya holds out his hand, Makoto is quick to grab it with his, nuzzling a bit before placing a lingering, moist-hot kiss against the back of his trembling hand. Byakuya exhales slow, licking his lips. He crosses his legs, swallowing at the tightening pressure down south. 

He just _really_ like being apologized to, alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (feel free to imagine toko peeking through the cafeteria door and losing her absolute SHIT)


	22. Keebo/Kokichi: Human Touch PT. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _out of my head_
> 
> _of my heart and my mind_
> 
> _'cause I can feel how your flesh_
> 
> _is crying out for more_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've been facing writer's block lately AND i'll be gone a week to my best bro's house, but i managed to get one thing out and i'm proud! :'D time for more keebo and kokichi!

Keebo couldn’t believe he was actually about to do this.

He stared at Kokichi, uncertain and nervous, while the other boy looked as unfazed as ever. 

_“Why can’t I ever be the one examining you?” He’d whined one day, mostly for the sake of whining, having long grown tired of being prodded at like a science experiment._

_Kokichi had paused, his hands still against Keebo’s face. “You never asked.”_

Who knew asking Kokichi if he could be the one doing the examining was the _easy_ part? Now, amidst all this suffocating silence, he had to be the one to make the first move.

“Um,” He says, a little dumbly. He shakes his head and tries again. “I’m going to touch your face. Okay?”

“What a gentlemen.” Kokichi couldn’t have rolled his eyes harder. “Gonta would be proud.”

“I’m sure he would be.” Keebo smiled fondly, not picking up on the sarcasm whatsoever. “Now, are you prepared? I don’t want to startle you.”

“What am I, a jittery antelope?” Kokichi muttered, torn between laughing at Keebo’s lack of awareness or being annoyed by it. “Yeah, yeah. My face couldn’t be more excited.”

“Good!”

The first touch against Kokichi’s face is feather-light and hesitant. When the boy raised no complaints, Keebo’s hand got a little firmer, cupping his cheek and squeezing gently.

“It _is_ squishy…” He couldn’t help but mumble to himself, patting his own cheek for a moment, simply to compare. To his slight disappointment, there was a definite difference in textures. “Are all humans’ faces of such plush quality as this?”

Kokichi, who’d been watching rather closely, snorted. “Dunno. Why don’t you try feeling all their faces, too?”

“I could never!” Keebo sputtered, and it was quite the contrast with how smoothly he went from cheek to neck, fingers prodding curiously near the jugular. He could feel Kokichi’s pulse. It sped up noticeably. 

“Why? You were perfectly fine asking me. Or am I _special_?” Kokichi leaned forward, lips puckered and eyelashes fluttering. “You sly robot, you.”

“I suppose you are?” Keebo answered rather plainly. Kokichi reeled back, surprised. “After all, I would not ask just anyone to touch their body. Just you.”

Kokichi went red all of a sudden, and Keebo was left confused, head cocking slightly. Had he said something wrong?

“Learn to phrase things better, stupid.” Is all Kokichi said, eyes now downcast, toward the blanket.

“I thought what I said was rather clear!” Keebo huffed, focusing his attention back on the task at hand. His other hand joined in on the exploration, fleeting and light wherever it went. 

Ghosting over Kokichi’s hair, then his earlobe, before thumbing over the ridge of his jaw curiously.

So many different textures for his processors to, well, process. It was incredibly fascinating. No wonder Kokichi liked doing this to him so much. 

Kokichi, who seemed rather stiff since he had begun, until—

“Hey, you wanna try something cool?” Kokichi asked, and he was grinning. Keebo was immediately wary.

“What is it?”

“Just put both hands…actually, here,” With that, he grabbed Keebo’s hands and set them around the fragile column of his throat. “ _Juuust_ like this.” 

“Alright…” Keebo looked openly confused. Was this a game, perhaps? “What now?”

“Squeeze. Gently.” 

Perhaps the most confused he’s ever been because of Kokichi, the robot obeyed nonetheless. Vague concerns were ringing off in his head, ones about the human body, especially the throat area, being fragile. 

_Squeeeeeze._

The longer it went on, the more nervous Keebo got. The opposite seemed to be true for Kokichi, as his closed eyes and smiling, blissed-out expression showed no worry. However, his hands were clenched around Keebo’s wrists, as if foretelling a struggle that never came to pass. 

“What exactly...is this?” Keebo finally asked once the quiet had become overbearing, expression vaguely concerned.

“Oh, nothing.” Kokichi said. His voice was noticeably strained. “Just wanted to show you what choking a human being felt like.”

“Ah.” Keebo replied, and then: “Wait, WHAT—“

He wrenched his hands away with a gasp. What stung more than anything was Kokichi laughing, tipping his head back and giggling gleefully at Keebo’s shock. 

“Why would you…?!” 

Kokichi’s giggling died down, and he shrugged. “I was getting bored.” 

“What if I had killed you?” Keebo retorted angrily. 

Kokichi was slow to respond. When he met Keebo’s eyes, he looked weirdly sincere.

“I knew you wouldn’t. You’re too _you_ , Kee-boy.” 

“Is there something wrong with being myself?” 

That was confusing. Keebo didn’t know how to be anyone else, which is why he _wasn’t_ anyone else. Humans were so confusing sometimes. 

“No.” Kokichi says, and then he smirks. “There’s only enough room for one _weird_ robot in this shitty school anyway.”

“I’m not weird!”

“Sounds like something a weird robot would say, but okay.”

“I do not agree, but we must move on.” Keebo relents, sighing. “It’s getting late. I still have many parts of you I’d like to touch.”

Kokichi’s eyebrows go up nearly to his hairline, and he puts his hand over his own face. His own reddening face. 

“I swear to god, you’ve gotta be doing this on purpose,” Kokichi mutters, voice muffled. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. Go for it.”

“Thank you.”

He knew he should probably move on to untouched areas, but he still cupped Kokichi’s cheek, leaning in close curiously. It was warm. 

Something about his face was so fascinating. 

Keebo could examine it all day. Perhaps all humans had such wondrous faces, but he wasn’t sure. The idea of getting this close to anyone else made him a bit uncomfortable, if he was being honest. 

“You’re very soft.” He states, matter-of-fact. His index finger edges against the boy’s bottom lip. “Especially here.” 

The mood had shifted again. Kokichi was just looking at him silently, something akin to interest in his eyes, along with something else that Keebo couldn’t place.

“...You wanna get an even closer feel?” Kokichi says after a lengthy silence. He grins, and Keebo’s thumb strokes over the dimple that forms from it. 

“I’m very close already.” Keebo says quietly, distracted with trying to ingrain the feeling of Kokichi’s skin into his memory. “I am not sure I could get any close-“

That’s when Kokichi yanks him forward and kisses him, and Keebo forgets about the examination entirely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i feel like i need to branch out with what ships i write (i keep every request i get written in my phone's memo!!) because these one-shots are pretty common i think? i just suck at doing anything and everything ;u;


	23. Korekiyo/Himiko: Magic Show

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _cast all your spells onto me_
> 
>  
> 
> _touch me with your wand_
> 
>  
> 
> _till the light shines through me_
> 
>  
> 
> _come on, baby, let's get spooky_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a request by platonics!!! hope you like it!
> 
> these two are so different, writing them in a setting together was different, but pretty fun!

Korekiyo didn’t quite know how he got here, but he figured it could be entertaining. He sat up straighter in his chair, legs crossed delicately. 

The anthropologist sat in the ultimate magician’s lab, watching said Ultimate Magician perform a variation of magic tricks. It wasn’t a bad place to be, honestly.

The little thing seemed to light up a bit once attention was on her during a performance. It was endearing.

“Now…” Her half-hearted, enthusiastic voice calls over to him. She brandishes a top hat from behind her back. “I have this hat, see? There’s nothing in it. Nothing at _all_.”

Himiko shows him the inside of it, proving that there was, indeed, nothing inside. He gives a quiet, fascinated _oooh_ , and she seems to puff up from pride. 

“But...what if I told you that I was about to pull out something from this empty hat?” Himiko finishes. “Something you’ll never guess!”

“Is it a rabbit?” Korekiyo guesses, mostly as a joke. There’s no possible way it could be something so cliche and overdone, after all.

Himiko stops suddenly, and he raises an eyebrow when she begins to sweat. Her show-winning grin wavers dangerously.

“Nyeh...no.”

“Are you being fictitious with me?” He leans forward in his seat, eyes narrowed.

“No!” She throws the hat somewhere behind her. It collides with the wall, and falls into a sad little heap. He prays that there wasn’t a real rabbit in there. “I changed my mind. N-next trick!”

Well, this may have been his fault. Whoopsie.

“My next trick is _wayyyy_ better.” Himiko says proudly, back in her full-swing enthusiasm. Or as enthusiastic as one like her could get. “Feast your eyes upon this…”

With that, she pulls a plain, white handkerchief from her pocket. Korekiyo eyes it curiously, decently interested.

“It’s just a handkerchief.” She states the obvious, flattening it out and showing him both sides. “Nothing hiding. No tricks or anything. Wanna guess what I’m gonna do with it?”

She looked vaguely nervous after that last line, probably because his guess had ruined her last trick.

“Hm…” His index finger taps against his chin as he thinks it over. This was definitely a less common magic trick; at least, it wasn’t one of the first ones you’d associate with magicians, like the hat trick had been. “I believe you have the upper hand here, Himiko. I have no idea.”

You’d have thought that Korekiyo had told her that they’d all been freed from this school of hell, with how her face lit up. 

She smiles in earnest, all chubby cheeks and white teeth. Even the way she held herself seemed more confident. It was _doubly_ endearing. 

Korekiyo was watching in earnest now, less to see the trick and more to simply observe her.

“Well, prepare to be amazed!” She says, smug as sin, before pulling _an entire rose_ out of her handkerchief. 

He stares at it. It stares back. 

It wasn’t like he had anything to expect, but that certainly wasn’t it. Perhaps Himiko does deserve more credit than she normally gets.

“Oh, my.” He applauds, quiet but genuine. “Incredible!”

“Here you go.” She holds out the rose with a flourish, and Korekiyo tilts his head, confused. 

“For me?”

“Of course,” She basically shoves the rose in his hand, and he takes it with no protest. It’s a real one; slightly rustled petals, sweet scent and all. “A mage always gives back to her audience, you know.”

Korekiyo took one last, long look at her. She was smug, borderline cocky in her presentation, and her grin had yet to drop. Endearing seemed to be the perfect word to describe her, indeed.

Endearing, endearing, endearing. 

Korekiyo looks up to meet her eyes, and when he does, he’s smiling underneath his mask. 

He takes her hand in his own, hears her startled intake of breath, and then he’s leaning down. 

You perhaps can’t call it a kiss because of his mask, but he still pressed against her hand where his mouth _would_ be. 

When he leans back up to look at her, she’s blushing. Quite fervently, too.

“Thank you, little witch.” He says quietly, and it comes out genuine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i liked writing himiko and _really_ liked writing korekiyo...i dig his gentle, yet unsettlingly creepy vibe! plus, his character design is easily one of my favorites in DR. the boy is CUTE!
> 
> (also THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH FOR 200 KUDOS!!! :''''D i can't believe that many people like this silly little self-indulgent fic!!! y'all and your feedback are always so very sweet, and i appreciate it so much!)


	24. Toko/Komaru: Just Practice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _got my mind on your body_
> 
> _and your body on my mind_
> 
> _got a taste for the cherry_
> 
> _i just need to take a bite_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a request by Mr_IReadFanfiction!! i hope you enjoy!
> 
> set in chapter two when they're bunking together in the sewer :D!

“Hey, Toko…” Komaru’s annoying voice said, in a light whisper. 

Tokyo’s eye twitches. She kept still, gritting her teeth.

“Toko?” A finger taps hesitantly against her shoulder, and she groans, shoving her face into the pillow. 

Toko just wanted to _sleep_ , damnit. Sleep, and then get out of this underground hellhole filled with lukewarm adults who’d long given up on survival. And that suspicious bear.

“....what.” She mutters, giving into her own demise, because of _course_ , Komaru had to wake up before the crack of dawn and begin pestering her. It’s what the idiot got for going to sleep so quickly earlier.

She turned on her other side to face Komaru, not even trying to hide the scowl on her face. The other girl was already looking back at her, eyes bright and wide-awake. 

“I can’t sleep.” Komaru says, and Toko sincerely wants to die. Please, God, let a Monokuma burst in and end it all. 

“And?” She mutters, looking at Komaru as if she were insane. 

“That’s all…?” She phrases it like a question, looking like a heartbroken, annoying little puppy the longer Toko frowned at her. “Am I bothering you? I’m sorry for wak-“

“ _Don’t_.” Toko holds a hand up and sighs. She sits up in bed, and Komaru clumsily rushes to do the same. “I’m already up, so there’s no need for an apology. What did you need? No, let me guess. You wanna paint each other’s nails and gossip about boys?”

“Oooh, can we?” Komaru asks excitedly.

“No.” Toko facepalms. “That was sarcasm, idiot.”

“Oh...”

It was silent for a moment, and Toko took the opportunity to look over her companion. A decision she regretted very quickly, because—

It just wasn’t fair. 

How, after all the near-deaths, the running for their lives, the building stress of worrying about their escape...

How did Komaru still look so goddamned _cute_? 

Toko’s eye-bags had bags of their own. Her face was even more pallid and sweaty than it normally was before all the chaos, and her ripped uniform certainly didn’t help appearances. She looked like a zombie crippled by overwhelming anxiety, and she thought that was _normal_ , because they were in dire circumstances!

It’s okay to look like shit, because you’re going through shit. But _noooo_ , whereas Toko looked like hell, Komaru just had to look adorable, and somehow manage to smell like cherries, not stink with sweat and fear like any normal person would.

It wasn’t fair, is what it was!

It was so outrageously and offensively unfair, that Toko found herself staring at Komaru from time to time. Definitely more than she was comfortable doing.

Just because of the unfairness of it all. Yes, exactly.

“-oko? Toko!” Speak of the devil. 

“What?” Toko snapped out of her inner-monologue, brain utterly failing to understand what Komaru had been saying for the past minute and a half.

“I asked you what you planned on doing, once we escape.” She repeats herself, looking at Toko expectantly. Her eyes nearly shined in the dim light of the room, and Toko wasn’t sure why that captivated her as much as it did. “I mean, you know what I’m doing. Finding my family, and all.”

Of course, she’d give the most normal, boring, noble answer. Toko wouldn’t expect anything less.

Toko made a show of stretching leisurely, crossing her legs with a drawn-out sigh. Time to impress the idiot.

“Well,” She smirks, sleazy and slow. “Y-y’know I’m gonna go find Master Byakuya...and then…a-and then we’ll—“

She never said she’d impress the idiot and be _truthful_ about it.

Sweat beaded along her brow, and she swallows. Komaru’s interested gaze certainly wasn’t helping.

“Uh-huh?” Komaru prompts, propping up on her knees and leaning forward, resembling an excited child. 

“Do...d-do...y’know!” She wipes the drool trailing along her chin with the back of her hand. “S-stuff.”

Komaru blinks, smile widening. “Like what?” 

Toko stiffens. This girl…

“A b-bunch of stuff!” She says defensively, gaze shifting. “Romantic...s-sexy…stuff, even.”

Considering Byakuya wouldn’t let her get within a five feet radius of him, this was all complete bullshit, of course. A girl can dream. Or fantasize, in her case. 

“Sexy?” Komaru blushes to the tips of her ears, holding her hand over her open mouth. Her eyes were comically wide. Toko really wouldn’t mind seeing _this_ Komaru more often. “That’s...wow. You’re really mature, Toko.”

Toko can’t help but puff out her chest, pride showing clear on her face. It wasn’t often she got complimented, so this was welcomed.

“I know, right? Y-you should be thankful I tolerate a lowly virgin like you.” She _hmmph_ ’s, crossing her arms with a smug air.

“Uh-huh! Thank you.” Komaru’s unshakable enthusiasm continues. “But, um...I have a question.”

“Yeah?” Toko quickly says, happy to bring in more bragging.

“Y-you’ve...kissed Byakuya, yeah? You’ve had your first kiss.”

“Well,” No. The real answer is no. “Duh.”

The mere thought of her mouth touching Byakuya’s was probably enough to send her into shock. Best not to dwell on it. 

“Yeah, thought so.” Komaru fidgets slightly, gnawing against her full bottom lip. Toko raises an eyebrow. 

“You look like you wanna say something. Probably something annoying. Or stupid. Maybe both.”

“Am I that obvious?” Komaru rubs the back of her neck, sheepishly giggling. “Erm, uh…”

“I’d like to get some sleep. Out with it, Omaru.”

“Canyouteachmehowtokiss?” Komaru rushes to say, all in one, big, nervous breath. 

“Huh?” Toko says, right before her brain processes what she actually just said. “Wait, _what_?”

“Kissing!” Komaru is so red-faced that she resembles a tomato, eyes glued to the bed. “C-could you...teach me how? I-It doesn’t have to count, since we’re just friends!”

She has to be dreaming. That was the only option here. This was like the start of a 5 dollar porno you’d snag in the AV section of a store. 

“W-w-“ She stutters, face as flushed as Komaru’s by now. “Why?!”

“I’ve always wanted to know…” Komaru picks nervously at her skirt, bottom lip between her teeth. “And worried a lot about the possibility that I could suck at it. Y-you don’t have to if you can’t, it’s okay!”

Relief hits Toko like a freight train, and she slumps slightly with a sigh, until she processes one particular word. One particular frustrating word.

_Can’t?_

“...you’re looking down on me.” She observes coldly, eyes narrow.

“What?” Komaru meets her eye for the first time in a while, and she looks genuinely baffled. “No, I’m n—“

“Y-yeah. You want a kiss?” She scoots closer, chin up. “You got one. I’ll teach you.”

“Really?” Komaru looks like she can’t believe it.

“Do I look like I’m joking?” She points a finger toward her own unamused face.

“Well, I guess not…”

“Exactly. Just...j-just close your eyes.”

“Why?”

She drags a hand down her face, exasperated. “People don’t _kiss_ with their eyes open, stupid! I don’t want you gaping at me like a f-fish when we do it.”

That got Komaru’s eyes closed. “Oh, um. Okay.”

Toko stares at her face a moment, feels creepy about it, and then mulls over what the fuck she was gonna do. She can’t _not_ do it. Making a fool of herself in front of Komaru wasn’t something she could let happen. 

It..it doesn’t count, okay. Just a peck, and they’d be good. She’d impress Komaru, and that was always a bonus. 

She puffs a breath into her hand, sniffing it afterward. Her breath smelled semi-alright. Enough for one kiss, surely.

“O-Okay…” Her voice gets quieter, and she leans forward slowly. “Don’t rush things, a-and don’t be afraid to make the first move. Grab his hand…”

 _Solely_ for demonstration purposes, she takes Komaru’s hand in her own, ignoring the other girl’s small gasp. Komaru’s lips are a muted pink, plump and soft-looking. 

Toko was certain there were worse lips out there, so she should be thankful. 

“Flutter your eyes real pretty, and let him know what’s about to happen without telling him in words. Then, you just...lean in a-a-and…go for it!”

With that, she leaned in too quickly, and they bump noses, but Toko didn’t let that slow her down. She mashed their lips together, so rough that their teeth clack against each other. 

Komaru grunts in pain, and Toko’s embarrassment simmers.

She pulls back just a bit with a wince, but unexpectedly, Komaru follows her. A gentle hand is at the back of Toko’s head, running through her hair and guiding her back to press firmly against her companion’s lips. 

Toko inhales sharply, sweat already beginning to pool down her back and sides. Wasn’t she supposed to be the one teaching the lowly virgin here? Not the other way around!

She’d expected Komaru to taste like cherries, but it was more like vanilla. Sweet and a little eager, her lips moving enthusiastically and barely giving Toko time to catch her breath. 

This was, uh. This was definitely more than a peck. 

She didn’t want to dissect the reason why she kinda...wanted this to count as a real kiss now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm finally....FINALLY....playing ultra despair girls, so i wrote this as a little celebration! feel free to request ships from this game now, too! (tho i'm nowhere done with it just yet- currently at the beginning of chapter 3) i'm loving it so far, and komaru is exactly what i like in a protagonist, and i'm glad to see more of toko. i wasn't particularly fond of her in DR1, and i'm liking her so much more already.


	25. Kokichi/Shuichi: Touch Starvation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _you're falling hard_
> 
> _i push away_
> 
> _i'm feelin'_
> 
> _hot to the touch_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the longest chapter in this fic so far o:!!! i LOVE this pair, i just haven't figured out how to write them confidently yet!

Kokichi first noticed the _thing_ during breakfast, just three days ago. The thing being Shuichi’s attitude concerning touching, that is.

He watched Kaito, Shuichi and Maki goofing around. Well, Kaito was doing most of the goofing, Shuichi was humoring him because he had no spine, and Maki really just looked like she’d rather be anywhere else.

Regardless, Kokichi watched them from a table over, chin in the palm of his hand, because he was bored. You could only antagonize Keebo and Miu so much before it got old. 

Kaito said something Kokichi didn’t bother paying attention to, because he wasn’t worth listening to, and it was most likely a bad joke anyway. He laughed afterward and slung an arm around Shuichi’s shoulders, pulling him in close for a friendly half-hug.

Obnoxious, lacking in all aspects of personal space, and oblivious to the tone of the room. Pretty standard Kaito. 

That’s not what caught Kokichi’s attention. Shuichi’s reaction did.

And not just because Kokichi tended to watch the boy a lot more than he watched anyone else. It wasn’t as if Shuichi was _interesting_ , it’s just that everyone else was so bland and annoying that the quiet, shy excuse of a detective caught his eye more than a little occasionally. 

Shuichi seems to shy away from the contact, even flinching a bit when Kaito’s muscular arm settles around him. Brown-grey eyes stay glued to the table, eyebrows pinching slightly with discomfort. He managed to keep that same tight-lipped, disingenuous smile in check the entire time. 

Kaito, being himself, looked none the wiser. 

It was when Maki got up and slammed her hand down onto the table, snapping at Kaito about something or other, and Shuichi visibly jumped back to ensure she doesn’t touch him, that Kokichi began to notice a pattern here. 

He doesn’t like being touched? Well, stating the obvious here, but still. 

_Huh_ , Kokichi thought. Would you look at that.

He sat up a little in his seat, a grin beginning to edge along his mouth. Seems detective boy wonder might be worth all the time Kokichi spent watching him.

This was worth pursuing. 

He started small. 

Walking past Shuichi in the hallway, so close that their shoulders brushed and hearing the small, sharp intake of breath doing that had garnered him. Turning around just in time to see him scuttling down the hallway at a faster speed like some sort of socially-anxious crab, ears tinted red.

Kokichi was sort of like a cat, in the way of…

When he was interested in something, he wanted to know more about it. When that _something_ that caught his interest was running away, he had the urge to chase. Pursue.

So that’s exactly what he did.

The impatient _knock, knock, knock_ , at Shuichi’s door came barely three days later. Kokichi always was the impatient type, after all.

“Yes..?” Shuichi barely opened the door, blearily blinking the sleepiness out of his eyes, before the other boy was shoving his way past him, inside. “What are y-you-“

“Howdy, detective,” Kokichi greeted him with a wide smile, dimples showing in his cheeks. Shuichi flinches back when he gets closer, but that doesn’t stop him from grasping the boy’s hand in his own, jiggling his arm up and down in perhaps the world’s most uncomfortable handshake. “Crazy seein’ you here, nyehe.”

“Wh-wha...you—“ He yanks his hand out of Kokichi’s, managing to work up the courage to send a glare his way. Feisty, huh. “It’s _2 in the morning_. What could you possibly want at this hour?”

“Nothing much, don’t worry.” Kokichi moves back in Shuichi’s personal bubble, holding back a giggle when the other’s back hit the wall in his attempt to move away. “Just your time, energy, and attention.”

Shuichi doesn’t look very amused. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. A nervous habit of his. 

“Go back to your room, Kokichi. I don’t have time for your mind games.”

“Mind games?” Kokichi gasped, expression offended. “I’ll have you know I came here to help _you_ , you meanie.”

“Help me?” Shuichi looked like he just barely held back a scoff. “With what?”

“Oh, y’know. Just…” Kokichi started casual, trailing off. His narrowed, intense gaze lands on Shuichi’s face, and he reaches out to trail a finger down the boy’s collar, just barely rushing the sensitive collarbone. Shuichi gasped, managing to go red, and then as pale as a ghost, within seconds apart. “Your little problem with touching, s’all.”

“P-problem? What problem?” He stuttered, and Kokichi doesn’t feel bad when his head tips back in a long, mocking laugh. 

This was _hilarious_. The irony of him saying that whilst trying to get as far away from Kokichi’s wandering hands as he could was palpable. 

If he was honest, it felt a little nice. Satisfying, even, having someone be so wary of him physically. He was a small, petite thing, he knew that and didn’t hate acknowledging it, but that also meant the chance of someone being frightened of him decreased significantly, even as a supreme evil leader. Crazy, right?

So seeing Shuichi shy away from him so much, wide-eyed gaze keeping close watch on where he’d try to touch next, was a _little_ , a bit, just somewhat—

Validating as shit. He was being honest here. However...

Shuichi being wary of him was fine, but downright frightened? That needed fixing. Kokichi didn’t come here to scar the detective.

In fact, in the deep, _deep_ , recesses of his mind, past all his ulterior motives and sadistic tendencies, he actually wanted to help Shuichi with this. Aid him in overcoming this issue. He’d even done his research, so it was clear that _some_ part of him cared.

In his own twisted way.

“Listen, I’m not gonna let you walk around this issue.” Kokichi dropped his hand and backed up, raising an eyebrow at Shuichi’s sigh of relief. ”At first, I chalked it up to you just not being a very touchy guy, but after some thinking…”

He puts on a face of concern, one that may even be convincing, if only Shuichi didn’t know him well enough. “I think it’s hindering you.”

“Hindering me?” Shuichi does scoff this time. “No, it’s n–“

Kokichi’s hand reached out for him, and he fell back with a full-body flinch. The silence in the room was palpable.

“I can see that.” Kokichi clapped, sarcasm heavy in his tone. “Look at you, totally not being hindered. Proud of you.”

“I don’t need your help.” Shuichi was definitely embarrassed now, head bowed, gnawing on his lip. “Leave me alone.”

Now that his friend group had expanded, it was easy to forget that he was still a socially-anxious loser. Kokichi would need to put more effort into being kinder. 

_Use your brain. Be accommodating, and he’ll trust you._

Then again, maybe not. Shuichi _was_ smarter than the rest of the people here. It was worth a try.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of.” Kokichi said, making himself thoroughly at home by plopping down on Shuichi’s bed. He ignored the other boy’s sigh. “Let me guess. Parents weren’t super affectionate, therefore making you unused to touching?”

Shuichi’s silence was all the confirmation he needed.

“Figured.” Kokichi hummed, crossing one leg over the other. His fingers tapped delicately against the comforter.

“Okay. Is that all you came here to tell me?” Shuichi looked so blatantly unamused that it was honestly funny. Kokichi had to remind himself to keep his grinning in check. “If so, I already knew I didn’t like physical contact. I didn’t need you telling me.”

“Would I ever wake you up at the odd hours of the night, just to taunt you?” Kokichi asked with a frown, and quickly continued before Shuichi said yes. “I want to help you.”

Gee, being sincere was hard. Especially when you were trying to keep the smirk off your face.

“Help me?” Shuichi’s eyebrows furrowed. “How will you…”

“Easy!” Kokichi patted the spot next to him. “First, have a seat, my friendly detective.”

Shuichi looked like he’d really rather do anything else but that. Within a few moments, however, he sighed for the second time that night, and began making his way over to the bed. He sat down, keeping his distance from Kokichi. 

Kokichi wasted no time in getting up, ignoring Shuichi’s baffled expression. He faced the detective, a grin beginning to curl against his mouth.

“Rule one. Don’t flinch, or you lose.”

He got right in front of him, giving a satisfied nod when Shuichi actually managed to stay still. Still, they could easily be closer.

“Pardon me,” Kokichi said politely, settling both of his hands on Shuichi’s thighs and yanking them apart, ignoring the detective’s gasp and going to stand in-between his spread legs. 

“H-hey!” Shuichi was blushing. How cute. It kinda made Kokichi want to eat him. 

“Shush. I’m commencing the helping.” 

“Getting in my personal space when you know I don’t like it is helping me _how_?!”

“I did a little research,” Kokichi said casually, somewhat milking the inches of height he had on Shuichi, now that he was standing. “And I think you’re actually craving being touched more than you think.”

“What sense does _that_ make–“

“Shhh.” Kokichi cupped Shuichi’s face with one hand, ignoring his groan of discomfort, and continued, “Let the master do his work, and maybe you’ll see. I’ll explain as I go along.”

_Okay. Start small, and work your way up. Don’t be too forward, or he may sincerely kick you out._

Kokichi merely kept that position a moment. Didn’t move, just allowed his hand to rest gently against Shuichi’s cheek. Then, he dropped his hand. Shuichi’s discomfort seemed to lessen.

“Hold your hand up.” 

He actually obeyed, and Kokichi took his hand. To his satisfaction, Shuichi barely reacted.

“See? Its exposure therapy! I do something extreme, and then follow it up with something simple. Now holding my hand isn’t half-bad, is it?”

“I...I guess.” That was the closest he was going to get to Shuichi admitting he was right, so he may as well appreciate it.

“Great! Let’s continue. Don’t move away, okay?”

Silence. He squeezed Shuichi’s hand.

“ _Okay_?” He repeated firmly.

“Geez! Okay!” He huffed. Kokichi grinned, unsettlingly slow and wide.

“There’s a good boy.”

This time, he strayed a bit. He went to card his fingers through the hair at the back of Shuichi’s head, keeping in mind to be slow and light with his touch.

Shuichi’s expression sorta resembled someone who’d just licked a lemon, but he managed to keep still. 

“Good.” Kokichi praised him quietly. There was only a hint of taunting in his tone, for once. “Now, back to simple.”

He clapped Shuichi against the shoulder. The detective blinked in confusion, but otherwise didn’t react. 

He followed it up with a hug, and then a handshake. Shuichi’s adversity was even lessening toward the more extreme contact by now. It may be Kokichi’s imagination, but he seemed to lean a bit into the hug.

A quick learner, was he. Kokichi would need to turn it up a notch.

“You look like you may even be enjoying this.” He said, voice low and teasing. “I guess I’m just _that_ good.”

“I’m just sleep deprived, and your tricks have gotten old.” Shuichi said with an eye-roll. 

“Aww, did baby boy finally grow a spine?” Kokichi cooed. “Look at you go. We’ll see if this shocks you.”

Without further ado, he leaned down. He wasn’t a complete asshole, so he didn’t try to stick his tongue in Shuichi’s mouth _just_ yet. However, he did press a lingering, firm kiss against his cheek, ignoring Shuichi’s sharp intake of breath.. 

When he pulled away, Shuichi’s face was bathed in pink, and what a sight it was.

“Now,” Kokichi grinned, and it was all sharpened teeth. “How about we high-five and call it a night?”

He expected to get kicked out, and that’s exactly what happened. Ah, well. He’d make sure to sit nice and close to Shuichi at breakfast tomorrow.

Therapy does nothing if it doesn’t continue, after all!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have periods where i randomly get self-conscious of my writing and can't write for days straight, but i'm trying to overcome it!!!! :'D kokichi is a BIT less sadistic and asshole-ish than my usual kokichi, and i dunno if that's a good thing or not, but i tried! i hope you guys enjoy!!!! <3


	26. Kazuichi/Everyone: Mistletoe!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _in the back of the car_
> 
> _on the way to the bar_
> 
> _i got you_
> 
> _on my lips_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been...so hard to write lately, but gosh i'm tryin! :')

It starts with Hajime. 

Kazuichi had been walking along the island, during the early morning. It was something he did to keep himself nice and awake, because mornings generally sucked when you stayed sleepy. Especially when you were trapped on an island wherein you’re supposed to murder people, but y’know. 

When he spotted a lean back and a flash of brown hair, he felt the beginnings of a smile come on to his face.

“Oi, Hajime!” He calls, jogging up to the boy. “Yo!”

“Oh, Kazuichi. Hey.” Hajime greets, turning around to look at him. “Good morning…”

He trailed off, his eyes going...somewhere north of Kazuichi’s beanie. Kazuichi cocks his head, eyebrows raising in confusion. 

“Huh.” Hajime says, sounding somewhat resigned, and then he’s cupping Kazuichi’s face and leaning in.

“Eh?” Kazuichi mumbles, candy-colored eyes wide and alarmed when Hajime’s lips press against his cheek for a solid second and a half in a rather casual kiss. _“EH?”_

Just like that, Hajime pulls away, casually looking back at Kazuichi like nothing had happened. Kazuichi brings a hand up to touch his cheek, his face about as pink as his hair. 

“Well, see you at breakfast.” And then Hajime was _just walking away_ , without having acknowledged any of what had just happened. 

“O...kay?” Kazuichi replies stupidly, still holding onto his cheek. 

He barely makes it two more steps before he’s running into Fuyuhiko. The boy’s expression is annoyed as he walks toward the pool, and that doesn’t shock Kazuichi. It seems Fuyu’s default is fury, or at least mild annoyance. 

“Heeeeey, ” He calls, walking forward to tap on his shoulder. “Dude, Hajime just did the weirdest thing!”

Fuyuhiko looks at him, and then his hat (seriously, was something different about it?) and then his face goes a few shades pinker, strangely enough. 

“Bend down.” He demands in a rushed mutter, eyes on the ground. Kazuichi blinks, and then hurriedly complies. No need in making him angrier, he supposes.

“....’kay.” Kazuichi awkwardly bends at the knee, putting them at eye-level. 

He didn’t really know what he was expecting, but certainly not the arm slinging around his shoulders, pulling him forward. Nor did he predict the mouth pressed snug against his forehead, warm and rough and—

And then it’s over, and Fuyuhiko’s shoving him away and practically running to the restaurant building. Kazuichi couldn’t get a glimpse of his face, but he saw that his ears were completely flushed. 

Kazuichi stares at the rippling, blue water of the pool, wide-eyed. This was a weird fever dream, wasn’t it. Oh, shit.

And then? It keeps happening. It just. Keeps. _Happening._

Gundham, hiding his red face in his scarf, sending one of his minion hamsters crawling up Kazuichi’s leg, and then all the way to his face.

“ _Chu_!” It squeaked, and then pressed its face repeatedly against his neck. It took entirely too long for him to realize he was being kissed. By a hamster. “Chu! Chu chuuuu!”

“ _GAAAAAAAAAH_!!!” He’d screamed, predictably enough, running in circles until the little shit scuttled off of him and back into Gundham’s hands. 

Going into the building only led to more chaos. Chiaki, who usually barely had the energy to look up at him from her arcade game to greet him in the morning, quietly requesting he get closer.

“Kazuichi. C’mere.” It would seem sinister coming out of anyone’s mouth but hers. She just sounds so sweet, and he has goddamn goldfish memory, so...

He obeys without question, because he’s _dumb_ , alright, he knows this.

To nobody’s shock but his, she takes his hand in both of hers, brings it up, and places a gentle kiss along his knuckles.

He makes a strangled, high sound in the back of his throat, twenty percent strangely flattered and a walloping eighty percent bewildered. 

She smiles at him, dimples showing off against her cheeks, and lets him go. 

Like the idiot he is, he says a grand total of 0 words, asks no questions, and instead rushes upstairs to the restaurant. He needed food and time to think. And perhaps despair over this situation, because despite the fact that it’s everyone else acting insane, he’s the one who keeps embarrassing himself.

Life’s not fair, man. It really isn’t.

It’s especially unfair when he makes it upstairs, and Fuyuhiko _and_ Hajime are both there. Eating, perfectly casual and chill, like they hadn’t just _macked_ on him mere minutes earlier. 

He hastily avoids eye contact, rushing to sit at a table they aren’t occupying, and finds himself nearly bumping into Akane.

“Ah—“ He mumbles, nervously pulling his hat lower. He did _not_ trust anyone right now. “M-my bad, dude!”

“Mrghhgmgghhgh,” She says, mouth stuffed with food. Her eyes go to his beanie ( _OH NO_ ) and then she swallows. “Howdy, uh…Ka...Kazo...Kazu...ah, fuck it.”

She grabs him, one hand against his lower back, the other hugged against the ridge of his shoulder. He yelps when she literally _dips_ him, and he’s forced to bend at the waist, arms instinctively going to cling to her in an attempt to keep himself upright. 

In all the confusion, he didn’t have the time to predict what was coming next. 

She pauses for a split-second, her grey eyes meeting his wide, panicked pair. And then she grins, canines bared, and mashes her mouth against his.

Uh.

The first thing he thinks is _huh, she tastes like barbecue_ , before his actual brain kicks in. Of course, he has no time to actually react before she suddenly lets him go. 

He falls into a stammering, red-faced heap on the ground. 

“W-wh-why—“ He finally, _finally_ , finds his voice. “What the _FUCK_?!?! Why is everyone so...s-so weird today?! Man!”

Akane raises an eyebrow, unimpressed by his mini-tantrum. She points to his beanie. 

Finally fed up with all this weird attention on his _hat_ , of all things, he rips it off his head. What the hell was everyone seeing?!

He stares at it, and his angered expression slowly softens to one of surprise. 

“Wh…”

Clipped to his hat, embarrassingly obvious, was a...

“Mistletoe, dude.” Akane grins at him again, plopping back down onto her chair and resuming her meal, as if nothing had happened. “Gotta keep up tradition, heh.”

“B...but,” He stutters. “ _How_? How the hell did this get on my beanie?”

Was this a prank? Did Monokuma somehow do it? But why? What the hell was the point of that?

“You didn’t do that yourself?” Hajime speaks for the first time since he’d seen him outside. He frowns. “I thought you did. Sorry.”

“Same here.” Fuyuhiko glares at him, but it’s lukewarm at best. “Thought it was a weird, pathetic signal that you wanted affection or some shit.”

“You guys think so little of me!” He whines childishly, shoving his hat back on to his head with a huff. “It’s not even Christmas! I would never do something so immature–“

Sonia walks in, and his mouth snaps shut.

“Good morning, everyone!” She smiles, gaze sweeping the room, before landing on him. Eyebrows drawn in confusion, she looked like she’d rather not ask. So she doesn’t.

Sonia briskly walks toward the breakfast table, and he rushes to get up. 

“M-miss Sonia, wait!”

“Ah…” Reluctantly, she turned to face him. “Yes?”

She _has_ to see the mistletoe, right? This was his chance! 

“Uh, well…” He giggles nervously, scratching at the back of his neck. “I was wondering if you’d, y’know...keep up tradition?”

She gazes at him evenly. He sweats.

“That is a pathetic way to ask.” Sonia comments, and he deflates like a kicked puppy. The corner of her mouth rises. “Although…”

She blows him a kiss, and he decides right then that _every single goddamn thing_ that happened today was worth it. 

“As a princess, I suppose I must partake in tradition.”

She winks at him, actually _winks_ , and he feels like he may faint.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just...love kazuichi. he deserves all the kisses! we shall never know who actually put the mistletoe there ;)


	27. Shuichi/Kaito: Familiar Feelings and Night Skies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _i want you_
> 
>  
> 
> _by my side_
> 
>  
> 
> _so that_
> 
>  
> 
> _i never feel alone again_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's taken me this long to write them, but i swear, i'm a sucker for this ship! it was one of the first i began to like during my play of the game, and i've got such a soft spot for it.

The stars always seemed to look particularly bright during a strenuous workout.

Shuichi would look up at the sky, through sweat-slicked bangs and heavy eyelids, usually between the twentieth to twenty-fifth push-up. Anything to distract himself from the exhaustion building up.

Kaito was sitting somewhere near with his legs crossed at the ankle. Smiling and encouraging him, in his own roundabout way. 

“C’mon Shuichi, you only have ten more! You got this!”

_40, 41, 42, 43…_

“W-what…” He took a pause to pant. His arms strained in the effort to keep him up. “What about you? I didn’t...see you finish.”

For a second, Kaito looked sheepish. And then, just like that, it was gone. Replaced with the overbearing confidence Shuichi had come to grow used to.

_44, 45, 46, 47…_

“It was just too quick for you to even _notice_.” He whispered dramatically, hands waving. “I’m a master, dude. You’ll get here one day, too. I see endless potential in ya.”

Shuichi kept his head bowed. He didn’t need Kaito seeing him blushing, nor did he particularly need to see him smiling like an idiot. It was equally embarrassing and amazing, the way he was able to lift Shuichi’s spirits solely by being himself.

_48, 49, 50!_

He didn’t even bother trying to be graceful or composed about it. Shuichi flopped against the grass belly-first, his muffled groan interrupting the calming silence of the night.

“Good job! You’re a little faster than last night, and way faster than you were when you first did this. Progress, Shuichi.”

“Thank you.” Shuichi’s muffled voice wheezed. He sat up, having to visibly use effort to do so. 

“Come sit next to me.” Kaito patted the spot on the grass next to him. His grin was welcoming, and also nerve-wracking. “Sidekicks don’t lay in a heap of exhaustion!”

“You’re right, sorry.” Shuichi mumbled, getting up and making his way to Kaito.

“And don’t apologize! You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Sorry.” He said on reflex. His face burned when Kaito chuckled. It wasn’t mocking laughter, at least. Kaito never made fun of him. 

Even though he had ample opportunity. There were so many flaws concerning Shuichi, and he’d lost count of them all along time ago. Despite this, Kaito still liked him.

Shuichi _thought_ he liked him, at least. Maybe.

He doesn’t dislike Shuichi enough to stop appearing at his door when nightfall came, knocking and happily demanding Shuichi participate in their nightly training. That helped him be a bit more certain that he was liked. 

Maybe even wanted. 

He plopped down beside Kaito, too exhausted to try and be graceful about it. He wasn’t surprised when the other boy’s muscled arm wrapped around his shoulders, but it still made him swallow dryly. He’d never get used to Kaito’s affectionate side, would he.

“So, o’sidekick of mine,” Kaito nudged him playfully. “How are you feeling?" 

“Um, tired. But good, I think.”

“I meant in general. Like...” Kaito’s voice dimmed, and his tone came out softer when he said, “It’s been two weeks since the Kaede thing. How are you holding up?”

Just when he thought Kaito couldn’t be any more of a good friend.

“I’m...I’m doing okay.” Shuichi said, and he was being honest. “Not the greatest, maybe, but–honestly, I’d be a lot worse if you weren’t here.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted them. It came out too personal, too intimate, too everything. He should’ve said Kaito’s _training_ was helping him, not Kaito himself. 

Kaito was probably creeped out. Shuichi avoided looking at him, and nervously waited for a response.

“Uh,” Kaito started after a moment, and Shuichi had never heard him sound _awkward_. When he snuck a glance up, Kaito was red in the face. “That’s...wow. That’s really nice, Shuichi. Thank you.”

Shuichi didn’t hide his smile this time. Worrying for nothing, huh.

“You’re welcome.”

It got silent. A quiet sort of relaxing, where Shuichi’s mind wasn’t running with uncertain anxieties anymore. He could lean slightly into the warmth of Kaito’s arm, and just breathe. So that’s what he did.

It was another few minutes before Kaito spoke again.

“I’m gonna be honest with you,” Kaito said, and Shuichi looked at him questioningly. Kaito’s nose wrinkled. “You _stink_.”

Flustered, Shuichi sputtered out apology after apology and tried to move away. “Sorry! I-I’m sorry, ah, I should’ve known not to sit so close when I’m sweaty—“

He didn’t expect Kaito’s laughter, and he _certainly_ wasn’t expecting the way the boy tightened his hold on Shuichi, keeping him close. 

“That’s not necessarily a bad thing. I mean, it smells, sure, but...it means you’re working hard, yeah? I wasn’t trying to insult you, I promise.”

Kaito managed to make everything sound so seamless, so easy. It helped Shuichi calm down, but it also made him feel embarrassed for overreacting in the first place. He stared at the ground, and at his fidgeting hands in his lap. 

“Yeah, Kaito.” Shuichi said lamely. Why was he so bad at holding a conversation? It probably seemed like he didn’t want to be here. 

“Hey, I’m over here.” He chastised, and Shuichi wasn’t mentally prepared for the hand against his face, tilting his chin up and forcing him to look Kaito in the eye. “Don’t look down when you talk, okay? Be proud! Stand tall!”

“Uh,” Shuichi squeaks, and his voice was ridiculously high. His face felt warm, and he was probably blushing, and Kaito could _see it_ , and– “O-okay. I’m standing tall.”

“You sure?” Kaito said skeptically, getting even closer. Shuichi gulped. “You’re looking a little warm there, bud.”

He let go of Shuichi’s chin to lay a hand against his forehead. He hummed, expression thoughtful.

“You might be coming down with something, Shuichi. It’s hard to tell by hand that you’ve got a fever, but...oh! I just remembered something my grandma would do!”

Shuichi opened his mouth to ask, but Kaito was already leaning in. His vision was completely filled with warm, violet eyes for a moment, and then—

Lips met his forehead in a kiss, and Shuichi’s soul left his body. He sat there, red-faced and awkward, trying to figure out what the _hell was happening_. 

When Kaito pulled away, Shuichi was still gaping like a fish. 

“You’re not too warm.” Kaito informed him helpfully, apparently deciding that his previous action didn’t need explaining. “My bad for worrying. Wouldn’t want my sidekick coming down with something, haha!”

Speechless, all he could do was nod.

Later that night, when he was in bed and trying to sleep, he came to a realization. The way he clammed up around Kaito, got flustered easily, reminded him so, so much of how he acted around….

Around Kaede. Oh.

“Shit.” Shuichi said aloud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love kaito's sweet, overbearing, and slightly obnoxious support of shuichi, and i tried my hardest to keep that in this fic :') i hope it wasn't just my own grandma that does the kissing forehead trick to check for fever haha, but i thought of kaito doing that and it was too good to pass up. 
> 
> i hope you enjoyed!


	28. Hina/Sakura: Rough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _i know_
> 
> _you wanna fight_
> 
> _set a new pace_
> 
> _wanna do you right_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my inspiration has been severely lacking lately but i love these two ;u;

Hina tastes like sweets. Donuts, maybe.

Sakura cradles her in her arms, practically engulfing her entirely. Her size wasn’t very telling to her romantic preferences, as she liked a slow, gentle pace.

She wouldn’t want to hurt Hina, after all. She should be treated like a princess. Even if Hina herself would rather Sakura treat her like a rabid cave-woman.

She liked things to go quickly, and Sakura was trying, she really, really _was_ , but it was just...

She lowers the girl on to the bed, the springs squeaking with their movement, despite how careful she was being. Almost immediately, a pair of taut legs wrap around her waist, and Hina’s small hand fists into Sakura’s school uniform.

“C’mon, _c’mon_ –“ She whines. Sakura nearly gasps when a hand crawls up her top, clutching the bare skin that sat over her protruding hip-bone. “Hurry!”

Face flushed, half with shock and half with embarrassment, Sakura meets her eyes. Hina’s pupils are blown wide, her expression yearning. Sakura lays a hand against her face, cupping her cheek tenderly.

When Sakura finally speaks, her voice is quiet and even raspier than it normally is.

“I just...” She trails off, but her girlfriend seems to get what she was trying to convey.

Slowly, Hina’s expression softens. 

“I’m not going to break, you know.” She smiles, and it’s so genuine that it makes Sakura’s heart ache. “You can be a little rough with me sometimes. It’s okay.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.” 

Hina’s eyes linger on hers. Slowly, deliberately, she nuzzles into Sakura’s hand. Warm breaths puff against her palm, and Sakura trembles. Hina really was going to be the _death_ of her.

Finally, she speaks. It’s a bit husky, eager, and so utterly _Hina_ that Sakura has to swallow dryly.

“What if I didn’t mind?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i dunno why every fic i write of these two babes ends up so SHORT, please forgive me i'm TRYING :'D


	29. Komaeda/Hajime: Unhealthy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _oh honey, I'll do anything for you_
> 
>  
> 
> _oh honey, just tell me what you want me to_
> 
>  
> 
> _oh honey, kiss me up against the wall_
> 
>  
> 
> _oh honey, don't take anything, just have it all_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a request by miacantwrite! hope you enjoy, my dude!
> 
> IT'S BEEN ENTIRELY TOO LONG AND I AM SO SORRY D:
> 
> i've been reading loads of fics lately, and that's been fun-- but seeing so many bomb fics makes me a bit self-conscious of my writing sometimes, and my inspiration fizzled out for a good while :'> i've got a couple half-finished requests laying around, and i hope i can finish them. i still adore DR, and i'll beat my inspiration into submission until it works >:D
> 
> a warning: this chap is both probably problematic and definitely a little steamy, so if that's not your thing, i wouldn't advise reading!

It was two silent, numbing hours after Mikan’s execution when it began.

 _Knock, knock_. Two brief, quiet rasps of fists against Hajime’s door. If he’d been sleeping, it most certainly wouldn’t have been enough to wake him up.

He wasn’t sleeping. The person on the other side of the door knew that, too.

Hajime lifts himself up off of his blankets, heaving a tired sigh. Dark bags cluttered beneath his eyes, and his face held an unnatural paleness. Neither of which he could help, so he didn’t try.

His hand grasps the knob, and the door swings open.

He is wholly unsurprised to see a grinning Komaeda facing him. He doesn’t look at all affected by the events earlier, hell, you could say he looked _better_. Of course he did. What’d Hajime expect from someone like him?

A faint flush sat high atop his cheeks, and his eyes were clear, wide. Focused on Hajime.

“Hello, Hajime.” He gives the other boy a subtle once-over that Hajime caught nonetheless. “Did I wake you up? You look exhausted. _Poor thing_.”

So dramatic, and so falsely honeyed. Hajime’s eyes are at a tired half-mast, because he doesn’t even have the will to properly glare.

“No, I was awake.” 

“Ah.” Komaeda shrugs, smile losing some edge. “My apologies for assuming.”

“Uh-huh.”

For an uncomfortable few seconds, they merely stare at one another. Well, the atmosphere was uncomfortable. Hajime refused to let himself feel out of place with someone like _Komaeda_. 

Komaeda looks perfectly in his element, too.

Until Hajime turned tail and promptly began walking away, and he balked.

“H-hajime?” He called, confused. Maybe even a little hurt.

“Door’s open, isn’t it?” Hajime turns back briefly to give him a deadpan look. He wished he hadn’t when Komaeda’s entire face _brightens_. 

He looked completely different with a grin splitting across his cheeks. Younger, and more approachable. Someone Hajime could’ve been close friends with, in some other world.

Hajime’s gaze slides across his features, intent, ignoring Komaeda’s confused blink.

It was a little like looking at the sun. Probably not worth the pain that would be caused.

He turns away again without a word. By the time he’s back on his bed, Komaeda is gently closing the door behind him. He practically skips over, leftover cheer still in his demeanor.

Hajime doesn’t bother offering him a seat. He’ll get it eventually. And he does, moving to sit on the edge of the bed after Hajime doesn’t speak for nearly an entire minute.

“...is this a bad time?” Komaeda asks softly. Hajime glares down at his comforter.

“Oh, no. Why would it be?” The biting sarcasm was maybe a little much, but he couldn’t help it. Komaeda knew it was a bad fucking time. Mikan was _dead_ , and she’d taken two more of his friends with her.

Komaeda was only asking to try to catch Hajime in a bout of rare vulnerability.

Whether it was to taunt him, or comfort him for his own gain, Hajime didn’t know.

“Ah– how foolish of me, of course it is.” Sheepishly, he rubs the back of his neck. His tone was too light. “A dear friend did just pass.”

Disgust coiled in his gut, clawed its way over his ribs, and up into his chest. He grunts in reply. 

Dear friend, huh. He wonders, briefly, if Komaeda had even had one conversation alone with Mikan.

“Though, perhaps sympathy isn’t earned.” Komaeda says thoughtfully, and Hajime’s head snaps up with a vicious glare. 

“What?”

“I mean…” The way he perks up at Hajime’s anger was anything but accidental, and he _hated_ it. “She did go slightly insane and kill two people she considered friends. That’s pretty bad, huh?”

Komaeda’s head tips back with a soft little laugh, as if he’d just told a light joke over tea. Hajime’s hand fisted into the comforter so roughly that his knuckles went white.

“It’s always the quiet ones, isn’t it?” Komaeda attempts another joke, and it happens to be the one that makes him snap.

Hajime hasn’t exactly been in many fights in his life, none, actually– but the way his fist cracked against the pale, fragile skin over Komaeda’s face didn’t reek of inexperience.

Given the other boy’s cry of pain, it didn’t feel that way either.

“Wha...“ His voice was slurred. Blood was already beginning to stain his white, perfect teeth. Hurt and fear clouded his expression. 

Hajime wasn’t at all ashamed to admit how satisfying it was to see. It was Komaeda. He deserved this and more.

“You have got _some fucking nerve_ ,” He spits, grabbing ahold of his arm before he can attempt to run. “To come in here, spouting your bullshit–“

Within seconds, both of his wrists are held in a bruising grip. Komaeda barely fights back, and when his back is forced against the comforter, he only swallows dryly.

Hajime straddles him, pinning his arms above his head. 

“ _Right_ after our friend died, too! You don’t care, do you?” If looks could kill, Hajime would be sitting on a corpse right now. “Actually, no. That’s a stupid question. Of course you don’t fucking care.”

“I d-do–“ Komaeda coughs, and blood bubbles up, trails down the side of his mouth. 

“ _No, you don’t._ ” Hajime leans down with a snarl, teeth bared. “Stop lying!”

“I…”

“I guess it’s partly on us for even giving you a chance.” Hajime laughs once, humorlessly. His grip on Komaeda’s wrists loosen, before letting go completely. “Considering you admitted to attempted murder during the _first trial_ , and all.”

Anger was beginning to drain, paving the way for the numb, lingering ache he’d grown used to by now.

Komaeda stops attempting to speak. He doesn’t try pushing Hajime off of him, either.

“If you said Mikan deserves no sympathy for killing people, what does that make you?” He asks quietly, knowing he won’t get an answer. “At least she wasn’t herself when she did it.”

Komaeda’s silence continues. When Hajime looks, he’s staring up at the ceiling with a strange expression.

A spike of irritation goes through him, and his eyes narrow. He fists a hand into Komaeda’s collar, pulling him up.

“You wanna know something?” They’re nose to nose. The grey in Komaeda’s eyes threatens to consume him. “We’d all still take post-murderer Mikan over you _any day_ , you piece of shit.”

For a split-second, Komaeda doesn’t do anything. 

Until, softly, he exhales. His breath fans over Hajime’s face, warm and human. It stutters a bit.

 _He’s blushing_ , Hajime realizes belatedly. Why?

His brow furrows, and he wets his lips with his tongue. Komaeda follows the movement, and his face gets pinker. 

“What’s wrong with you?” He asks suspiciously, shifting his position slightly, and– oh.

He’s hard.

Heavy, telling, and poking Hajime’s ass, Komaeda was _hard_.

Once he knows, and Komaeda can _tell_ he knows, mortification slowly settles over his features. It would be fascinating to watch, if Hajime wasn’t currently going through a mental breakdown. 

“You’re really–“ _Getting off on this_. His voice squeaks, to his own horror. Embarrassment sits hot on his face. “You’re _disgusting._ ”

Komaeda’s suddenly got a grip on the back of his neck, and he’s pulling him down for a kiss before he even thinks to flinch back.

He tastes of nothing but iron. The kiss is sloppy, teeming with inexperience and desperation, all teeth, tongue, and bloody saliva.

The rational thing to do is pull back. Maybe punch Komaeda in the face again a couple times, too. Tell everyone else what he’d done, and make him even more of a social outcast. 

Hajime doesn’t do any of those things.

He fists a hand into Komaeda’s unruly hair and yanks, grinning savagely at the choked yelp it rewards him with, and returns the kiss with twice as much fervor.

He’d blame it on temporary insanity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i adore this pair, it's one of my favs of the series, so WHY IS IT SO HARD FOR ME TO WRITE. I'M TRYING Y'ALL.
> 
> and GAHHHHH THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR OVER 400 KUDOS :'''''D i truly love any of the comments, kudos, or bookmarks this silly little fic gets, and thank you sm to anyone who left any sort of feedback! you guys keep me writing and smiling!


	30. Gonta/Kokichi: Downward Spiral

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _wake up, what a night_
> 
> _the perfect night to sink into the floor and die_
> 
> _it's no love_
> 
> _but it's close enough_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gonta/kokichi, as requested by 6TheGodOfShipping9! hope you enjoy, dude!
> 
> WE MADE IT TO CHAPTER 30 BOYS. I HAVE NEVER STAYED THIS LOYAL TO A FIC :') here's to however many more!
> 
> time passes by a lot in this, and i tried to make that clear with extra spaces, i hope it's not a confusing read!

At first, Kokichi couldn’t believe his luck. 

He’d known Gonta was stupid. I mean, how could you _not_ – he talked in broken words, trusted entirely too easily, and, despite his intimidating size, had an aura of naivety. Soft grin and all.

Kokichi didn’t know how stupid, however. Until now.

He was _blessedly_ stupid. Stupid to his own disadvantage, and to Kokichi’s advantage.

All it took was one conversation, and a few lies, to get Gonta to kidnap almost the entire student body and lock them in his student lab.

_All because Kokichi said they didn’t like bugs._

Sure, it hadn’t ended in his favor–he could still feel the disgusting insects crawling up his shirt, eugh– but it was a promising start. 

Potential was the right word. Gonta had potential. 

It was worth pursuing.

 

If he wanted, Gonta could easily be one of the rulers of this school. He was gigantic, incredibly strong, and even intimidating, if you didn’t know him well enough.

The thing is, Gonta didn’t want that. Hell, he didn’t want much of anything. 

Aside from friendship, and attaining the _prestigious_ and _amazing_ title of a Gentleman. How boring.

It was like the gods had put the personality of a puppy in the body of goddamned Cerberus. Kokichi had deemed it a waste in the beginning, until he realized one key factor.

If Gonta wouldn’t do it, Kokichi could just do it for him. All he needed was to be closer, and then he was. 

He barely had to do anything, really. Smile a couple times in Gonta’s direction, compliment him once or twice, and your fates were sealed as one. It was stupidly easy.

Kokichi bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from grinning maniacally in the middle of breakfast. 

Now all he needed was the patience.

 

“This Kokichi’s room?” Gonta asks with a gasp, casting an impressed look around him. 

“Nyehe, yep!” Kokichi replies with a high laugh, impatiently ushering the other boy in with a hand at his lower back. If Gonta is surprised by the physical contact, he doesn’t show it. “Thought you’d realize that by the way I invited you in, but y’know…”

Kokichi plops down on the edge of his bed. Gonta stands there uncertainly, and then visibly brightens when Kokichi pats the spot next to him with a welcoming grin.

“C’mon, big guy!” He says.

“O-oh! Yes!” 

The bed dips impossibly low with Gonta’s weight, forcing Kokichi into practically snuggling against his side. Not that he wouldn’t have eventually done that anyway. 

Gonta doesn’t move. 

“It very nice!” He says brightly, like their proximity isn’t even on his radar. “Gonta happy to be here.”

“Oh, stop. You’ll make me blush…” 

Kokichi chances a quick nuzzle against his bicep, eyes trained intently on his face.

He sees the bob of Gonta’s adam’s apple as he swallows. He turns his face away. It gives Kokichi a good look at his red-tinted ears.

He doesn’t pull away. 

Mouth curling in satisfaction, Kokichi grabs ahold of Gonta’s bicep and clings this time. 

“Did you know you’re my best friend? Because you are.”

 

A week in, Kokichi starts giving orders. It begins small.

At breakfast, he _drops_ (tosses) his fork underneath the table. He doesn’t move to pick it up, and instead, says, “Gonta, be a doll and pick up my fork for me.”

Gonta blinks, mid-chew. Several of their classmates cast concerned glances in their direction. 

And then Gonta is smiling, and happily chirps an agreement. He clambers underneath the table, hand brushing by Kokichi’s ankle to get the utensil behind it. 

Kokichi gnaws at the straw of his milk. _Bump, bump, bump_ , goes his heart in his chest, quick and pounding in his ears.

“Here you go.” Gonta offers him the fork, holding it in one of his gigantic hands.

Kokichi is slow about taking it. When he reaches out, the way their fingers brush is anything but accidental. 

“What a gentleman.” He says cheekily, watching as Gonta lights up like a beacon. 

He chatters excitedly for the rest of breakfast. Kokichi listens to most of it, to his own credit. He glances sideways, and sees that Shuichi, Kaito, and several others were still looking at the two of them suspiciously.

_Keep looking, dumbasses._

Kokichi sticks his tongue out at them. 

 

The next time, they’re in Gonta’s room. 

He’d immediately pranced over and made himself comfortable on the bed, but as soon as Gonta moved to do the same, he held his hand up. Gonta pauses obediently.

“Hey, Gonta, I had a really great idea.”

“Hm?” 

“First.” Kokichi points to the ground in front of him. “Sit here.”

He expects at least some mild confusion. Maybe a raised eyebrow. However, Gonta doesn’t even _blink_ before he’s awkwardly sitting between Kokichi’s spread thighs, looking up at him expectantly.

_Bump, bump, bump, bum–_

“What if I taught you some lessons on being a gentleman?” Kokichi barely gets it all out before Gonta’s smile is breaking out across his face. “Not right now, but in the futu-“

“That sound lovely! Gonta really like that idea, and, and-“

“Okay, okay!” Kokichi pats him on the head, letting his fingers weave through strands of soft hair. “Calm down, tiger. Gentlemen gotta keep their cool, y’know?”

“ _Oh_.” Gonta whispers, deathly serious. Kokichi holds back a laugh. “Y-yes.”

“There we go! Cool as a cucumber already. Knew you could do it.” 

They’re so close. Kokichi is still petting him, and Gonta’s beginning to lean into it subconsciously, a blissed-out expression on his face. Kokichi was never one to like dogs, but Gonta was a suitable alternative

_Gonta wearing a collar, huh…_

He could wrap both legs around Gonta’s shoulders, if he wanted. Pull him in, and never let him go. 

Kokichi doesn’t.

“Hey, Gonta.” His voice is noticeably lower. His nails scrape _just right_ against Gonta’s scalp, and he exhales shakily at the pleased sigh it rewards him.

“Uh-huh,” Gonta mumbles, eyes blissfully half-mast. 

“Bark for me.”

“...huh?”

Kokichi doesn’t snap back a retort. He merely repeats, “Bark.”

Even now, he’s half-expecting to be brushed off. Maybe even kicked out. He waits, waits, and waits some more.

Gonta looks confused, and still, he utters a soft, “Woof?”

Relief spreads through Kokichi like honey. Adrenaline is replaced by warm, _heavy_ satisfaction that pools in his gut, makes his breathing slower and deeper.

“Good–good boy.” He ruffles Gonta’s hair. His fingers tingle at the contact. “You’re great, you know that?”

Gonta glows under the praise, just like he knew he would. It’s all too easy. Kokichi could honestly call this fun.

 

Gonta tastes like the strawberry milk he’d chugged at lunch. He’s clumsy, over-eager, but acting so, _so_ , certain that he wants this. 

They’d been buddy-buddy for two weeks now. If he knew it wouldn’t hurt his feelings, he’d pull away to murmur a comment about Gonta being _easy_. 

He doesn’t. Instead, his fist tightens against the collar of Gonta’s shirt, and he forces his tongue deeper inside the other boy’s pliant mouth.

Gonta says he loves him sometime after. Kokichi pretends he doesn’t hear. 

 

Kokichi would never forget the light going out of Miu’s eyes. Along with the black streaks of her mascara running down her face, when the strangulation forced tears out of her.

Gonta cries during most of it. Kokichi stares at the snow. It reminds him of the icy blue of Miu’s eyes.

His heartbeat is steady.

 

Kokichi fiddles with his comforter. Two hours after the execution. He doesn’t feel happy. This doesn’t feel like a grand scheme he’d orchestrated. 

And now, there was no one to celebrate it with.

“I don’t care.” He says aloud, to no one. He fists a hand into his comforter, so roughly his knuckles go white. “I. _Don’t. Care_.”

The silence feels like a taunt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this started out very sexual (as you can probably tell) and then i started feeling soft n angsty in the middle, and it went in that direction ;u; hope you all still enjoy! feedback is appreciated!


	31. Kaito/Kokichi: Angelic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _she's into superstitions_
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> _black cats and voodoo dolls_
> 
>  
> 
> _i feel a premonition_
> 
>  
> 
> _that girl's gonna make me fall_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a request by DankMemes_BrokenDreams!! i hope you like it, my dude!

Kaito probably couldn’t blame anyone but himself for being in this situation.

The entire rest of his class could probably say that if they happened to be walking by, and Kokichi peeked outside an abandoned classroom and attempted to wave them inside, they’d go running immediately, _at best_.

Kaito didn’t do that. 

When he’d been walking along the hallways, humming to himself, and then jumping out of his own skin when the sound of a door creaking open echoed across– the wide, delighted eyes of his least favorite person staring at him really should’ve been expected. 

“Just the guy I was waiting on!” He says, and wow, Kaito really wanted to leave already. 

By the grace of whatever god existed, he didn’t. Mostly because Kokichi would probably wait for someone else to pass by, somebody more naive and easy to trick, and lure them in the classroom for whatever evil he had to be planning.

So, reluctantly, he held his ground. 

“What are you doing, Kokichi?” He sighs.

Briefly, annoyance flickers across the other boy’s face. It’s gone before Kaito can consider what it means.

“Doing what everyone else is refusing to do.” He says sweetly. “Actually looking around! Trying to find things we can use to our advantage! Useful stuff, you know the drill.”

That was even more suspicious. Kokichi had seemed fine beforehand with letting everyone rot in this school forever, or until all of them died but the winner. Kaito’s gaze narrows.

“Huh.” He sounds unimpressed. “And did you _actually_ find anything useful?”

His snarky remark blows up in his face when Kokichi gives him a shit-eating grin, like he’d been waiting for that question the entire time.

“Why, I thought you’d never ask,” He opens the door a smidge wider. “Come on in and see.”

This was so, so, obviously a trap, that Kaito was beginning to wonder if it actually wasn’t. Kokichi was subtler than this, usually.

Kaito shifts from foot to foot, considering. Kokichi’s smile doesn’t waver.

And if it _was_ a trap…

He had at least fifty pounds on Kokichi, and stood a head and a half taller. If he tried anything, he’d be quickly overpowered. Unless he had a weapon, but–

 _Better me than someone else_ , he reasons to himself. His mind was made up.

“Alright, fine.” He huffs, making his way over. He nearly shoved Kokichi aside to get inside, but thought better of it. 

Evil or not, he was a tiny, fragile-looking thing. It’d feel like kicking a kitten. A kitten with the spirit of evil inside it. 

Instead, he stops in front of the door, arms crossed. Kokichi blinks up at him, faux-innocent.

After an uncomfortable pause, he finally snapped, “You gonna let me in or not?”

“Oh, I will.” Kokichi responds. He claps Kaito against the shoulder, as if they were old friends. “When you ask politely.”

In that moment, Kaito truly considered murder for the first time ever. He inhaled softly. 

_Keep calm. He’s just trying to get a reaction out of you._

“Please. Let me inside.”

“Atta boy.” Kokichi beams, opening the door wide and gesturing dramatically towards it. “Come on in.”

Kaito did just that, hesitant and inwardly preparing himself for literally anything to be waiting for him, be it a knife, a monster, or a corpse.

He found an empty classroom instead.

There were no desks. The afternoon sunlight filters in through the giant window, casting a glow upon everything in sight. The chalkboard was depressingly clean, while dust occupied every nook and cranny of the room.

There wasn’t even a camera. Well, none that Kaito could spot. Maybe Monokuma had finally invested in hidden ones.

It took him an embarrassingly long time to notice the opened cardboard box, sitting right in the middle of the classroom floor.

“What’s that?”

“Thought you’d never ask.” Kokichi skipped over to the box, proceeding to kneel down next to it. It was nearly as big as he was. His fingers slide across the edges of the box, and he sends Kaito a look. Probably trying to gauge whether or not he was interested.

Kaito feigns indifference. Given the grin, Kokichi doesn’t seem to buy it, and, without further ado, he lifts the box and turns it upside down. It’s contents spill to the ground.

Kaito can’t help his look of surprise. “That’s–“

Crumpled and dirty-looking, a bundle of tangled white fabric sat against the floor. A cheap pair of angel’s wings, a clip-on halo, and devil horns were nearby.

He can honestly say this was the last thing he’d expected to see come out of that box.

“Halloween stuff?” He mutters, confused. “Why is this here?”

“Beats me!” Kokichi says happily. “Maybe it was props for a play a long time ago. Or a festival. I’unno.” 

They all looked like items you could purchase from a dingy thrift in January, after all the halloween excitement had died down, and only the sad scraps were left.

“Is...is that all you needed to show me?”

Kokichi cocks his head, pausing in his examination of the angel costume, “Was there supposed to be more?”

Kaito massages his temples with one hand, eyes clenching shut. _This guy._

The sound of fabric hitting the floor reached his ears, and he opens his eyes again. He balks when he sees Kokichi. 

More specifically, when he sees Kokichi, shirt removed, beginning to _take his pants off_.

“What the hell are you doing?!” He yelps, and nearly shields his eyes, before his pride wins out and he refrains. 

Kokichi looks at him with a raised eyebrow, like _he’s_ the weird one here. “Changing?”

“But– but why?” 

“I was looking at the stuff, and had a thought…” Kokichi’s waistband slides fully down his hips. His hip bones jut out, given his thin frame.

 _He wears briefs, huh,_ Kaito’s treacherous mind notices before he can stop it.

“Gee, the angel costume would suit me _soooo_ much!” Kokichi finishes. “So I’m putting it on.”

He kicks his pants off, leaving him one piece of underwear away from indecency.

Kaito is staring, knows he shouldn’t be, but it’s hard to stop, and he can’t figure out _why_.

“Did you really need to...to strip,” Kaito’s voice cracks, and he hates himself a little for it. “To do that? The costume is a tunic.” 

“Is not.” Kokichi bends over ( _avert gaze avert gaze avert gaz–_ ) and picks up the costume in question. “It’s a dress, _duh_.”

“You’re gonna wear a girl’s costume?” 

“Yeah? You got a problem with that?” He sticks his tongue out at Kaito. “Or wait– don’t tell me you’re afraid I’ll steal your heart, dressed as such a cute angel. I saw you staring, y’know.”

Kaito flushes all the way to the tips of his ears. “I-I wasn’t staring!”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

Kokichi slips the fabric over his head, yanking it down his shoulders. It’s cheap, frilly, and clearly made for someone small, so it fits him like a glove.

The hem stops right above his knees. The top is the only thing loose on him, probably because of his lack of breasts, so the spaghetti straps slip down his narrow shoulders.

“You believe in any of this stuff?” Kokichi asks, half-preoccupied with fetching the wings and halo. “God, angels, the like.”

Kaito pauses for a second too long.

“I...don’t know. Maybe. I’ve been thinking about it lately.” He finally answers, a little too honest for his own liking.

“Pfft, why?” Kokichi smirks over at him. “You planning on dying soon?”

It was clearly meant as a joke, but Kaito’s throat tightened nonetheless. He looks away.

The conversation drops. 

The wings come next, and Kokichi puts them on with ease. They’re small and hang a little low, but they stay in place.

The halo takes less than a second to clip in, and then everything is done.

“So?” Kokichi twirls around to face him. His skirt flows with the movement, gently. “Do I look angelic or what?”

Kaito’s throat went dry.

The dress nearly matched his complexion, considering how pale he was. He pulls one of the spaghetti straps up, pouting when it fell back down immediately.

The sunlight casts a glow upon him, bathing him in soft, orange light. 

All in all, Kaito was just looking at a skinny, bite-sized ball of evil wearing a cheap Halloween costume. 

_So why am I…_

If he wasn’t sane, he would’ve thought Kokichi looked cute. But he _was_ sane, so he’d never, ever, _ever_ , think that.

“You look like a cheap Halloween prop.” Kaito says, but there’s no real malice behind it.

“Gee.” Kokichi snorts. Was it just Kaito, or did he look disappointed? “Don’t lay it on too thick, now. You flatter me.”

Kaito doesn’t even realize Kokichi’s striding forward until he’s right in front of him, and he’s got a hand fisted in the collar of his shirt. 

He pulls him down, and Kaito chokes, bending forward. “What’re you–“

Something is placed on the top of his head, and he instinctively goes to grab for it. 

He brings it down. It’s the devil horns headband. Kaito looks at Kokichi with drawn eyebrows, confused.

“Thought it suited you, nyehe.” He winks. 

Kaito huffs out something that could nearly be called a laugh. “Oh, yeah? I think you fit the whole satan persona more, but that’s just me.”

Kokichi merely stares at him, and just when Kaito was beginning to feel uncomfortable, he finally grins. It’s slow, maybe somewhat hungry.

He reaches for Kaito’s hand.

Kaito, be it because of stupidity or a moment of vulnerability, doesn’t pull away. Kokichi’s hand looks so _small_ next to his, delicate-boned with bitten fingernails.

He pulls Kaito’s hand up, and bends down to kiss his knuckles. Kaito nearly gasps. His hand spasms slightly, and he just _knows_ Kokichi notices it.

Kokichi’s eyes flick up to meet his. He’s smiling, and in that moment, Kaito can truly say that the other boy looks something akin to angelic.

“Everyone knows the bible says Lucifer was the most beautiful angel. You’re not subtle, spaceboy.” 

Kaito goes red within seconds, and he sputters indignantly.

_“That’s not what I—!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i feel like i maybe made this a biiiit too soft and sweet, considering their relationship is uh...wishy washy AT BEST in canon :'D if i do write them again sometime, it'll probably be a lot darker! just because that's what i tend to envision for them. i just wanted to put kokichi in an angel costume OKAY
> 
> i also feel like too many of these chapters include kokichi...he's just fun to write! i promise my pairs will get more diverse! 
> 
> (ALSO 500 KUDOS WHHHHAAAAT!! :''''''D!!! idk why y'all like this mess of self-indulgent stories, but i'm so glad you do!)


	32. Toko/Komaru/Genocide Jack: Tender Moments, Smirking Apologies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _i knew it was wrong_
> 
> _i'm beyond it_
> 
> _i tried to be strong_
> 
> _but i lost it_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a request by Mr_IReadFanfiction! i hope you enjoy! C:

Kissing Toko was a fairly new experience. 

Komaru could count the times they'd done it on one hand, after all. Not that she kept up with the number of times they'd kissed or anything! She's not _that_ much of a loser.

Except she totally is, and she totally has been counting every single kiss. Not that it was hard to keep up, given the small, well, amount. It wasn't for a lack of trying on her part. Turns out, despite her bragging, and the insults she liked to hurl Komaru's way about _virgin_ this and _pure maiden_ that, Toko had about as much experience as she did. As in, absolutely none. 

Komaru had always been known as shy and a bit airheaded. Oblivious to things around her, and definitely not one to take the initiative. That had to be changed in consideration to Toko, considering the girl was a whopping ten times more shy, and her stubborn nature wouldn't let her request the slightest bit of affection from Komaru. So it was up to Komaru to be the bold one, the initator. 

Except that none of that mattered right now, because they were currently in the middle of kiss number _five_. Five whole kisses! This was something only girlfriends did, right? Friends don't kiss!

Well, maybe they did. On the cheek, maybe even a joking peck against the lips. 

This wasn't some mere peck against the lips. Komaru sits, trembling knees braced against the bed (it may be slightly disrespectful and _definitely_ naughty that they're kissing in the underground base, where anyone could walk in their room) as she presses firmer against Toko's mouth, eliciting a stuttering intake of breath from the girl. 

She hopes Toko tastes the strawberry lip-gloss she'd gone through the trouble of putting on, because she'd applied it _solely_ for this. Yes, she was aware that she was a little pathetic, but it didn't even matter, because they were _kissing_.

Her hand clenches around Toko's smaller one, and she only pulls away when breathing becomes a necessity. When her eyes open, Toko's entire face is bathed in crimson, and she's looking at Komaru with a dumb-struck expression. 

It reminds Komaru of the kids' anime she'd watch when she was younger; a character would see a pretty girl walk by, and his eyes would go half-mast, hearts cartoonishly forming in his pupils. Toko was kinda looking at her like that. _Her_. 

Komaru can't help the delighted, girlish giggle that breaks free, and Toko looks offended. 

"W-What're you l-l-laughing at? What?"

"No, no-" She's quick to argue once she's realized her mistake, waving a hand frantically. Leftover laughter is still in her voice, and it doesn't help Toko look any less flustered. "I'm not laughing at you or anything!"

"T-then what's the s-stupid giggling for?!"

"I just..." Komaru's gaze flickers down to the blanket, and then back up to Toko's. She's stopped laughing, but she's still smiling wide, all dimples and pearly teeth. "I just thought you looked really cute."

Toko stares at her blankly, until her expression cracks, and she's twice as red in the face as she was before. The delicate hand that'd gone slack in Komaru's grip tightened once more, and Toko looks like she's trying her absolute hardest not to smile. 

Komaru flutters her eyelashes playfully, and Toko finally gives in, a soft laugh present in her voice as she shakes her head and whispers, "Idiot."

All in all, it's a perfect, sweet, and tender moment. Komaru wouldn't be upset if it lasted forever. Of course, something bad just _had _to happen the second she allowed herself to think such a selfish thing.__

__Toko blinks owlishly, and her mouth parts. Komaru's brow furrows. Was something wrong?_ _

__"Ah, ah..." _OH NO_. "A-A-AAA _ACHOO_!"_ _

__"Toko?" She says urgently, hanging on to the other girl's hand as tightly as she could. "Toko, are you-"_ _

__When Toko's eyes snap open again, she's not Toko anymore. Komaru's vision is Genocide Jack's grinning, insanity-filled face._ _

__"Huh? Huuuuuh?" Jack looks around the room with wide eyes, and then looks at Komaru. "We're not even in battle, and I've been freed? What a lucky day! Did your little friend sneeze again?"_ _

__Komaru's sheepish expression says it all, and Jack bursts into cackling laughter._ _

__"Quit laughing at Toko!" Komaru can't help but say, pouting. Most of her fear of Genocide Jack had long faded, now that they'd fought Monokumas together for as long as they had, so she wasn't going to be a complete pushover this time. "She can't help it!"_ _

__"Oh, yes, yes." Jack nods solemnly. "Poor little thing! I'm near tears, believe me, gyahaha!"_ _

__Komaru turns away with a huff, already fed up with Genocide Jack's antics._ _

"Oh, don't be like that." Jack whines childishly. "It wasn't like I _tried_ to interrupt your, uh...what were you two doing?"

Komaru chokes on air. She coughs, face quickly reddening, "N-nothing important..."

Genocide Jack looks at her with narrowed eyes, and then pointedly raises their still-joined hands. "Uh-huh. So, how long have you two little lesbos been makeout buds?"

__Komaru deflates like a popped balloon, flushing to the tips of her ears. She musters up her best glare._ _

__"S-shut up! D-don't say anything mean, or I'll...!"_ _

__"Geez! I was only going to apologize." Jack raises an eyebrow, looking at Komaru like _she's_ the one being strange. Komaru is immediately suspicious. _ _

__"Well, I don't forgive you." Komaru huffs, knowing she's being childish. She can't help it._ _

__"Oh, yeah?" Jack responds, and then a toothy grin breaks out across her face. She leans in, so close her breath fans across Komaru's mouth, who can't help the flustered way she gasps. Genocide Jack or not, it's still Toko's face! "I can make it worth your while, y'know."_ _

Right when Komaru was going to question her, a hand presses against her chest, and pushes her down against the bed. It's only when a soft, warm body presses down against hers that she finally realizes, _oh._ Oh. 

__

__Toko's- No, Genocide Jack's- face looms above her own. She looks like she's literally about to _eat_ Komaru, and that makes her swallow dryly. _ _

__

__"You're not exactly a pretty boy, _buuuut_..." Genocide Jack grips the back of her neck, pulling her forward. "You'll do."_ _

__

__Her first thought, as an all-too-familiar mouth is pressing against her own, is that this is _nothing_ like Toko tends to kiss. It's aggressive, bordering on downright rough. Considering the way her tongue tended to lull out of her mouth, it shouldn't be shocking that Jack immediately licks the seam of her lips, grinning into the kiss when Komaru gasps._ _

__

_I really, really hope this doesn't count as cheating_ , she manages to think between feverish kisses, and a greedy hand creeping lower against her waist.

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i really enjoyed writing the beginning with toko and komaru, but once genocide jack came in, i admittedly struggled a bit :'D hope it doesn't show! i love these lesbians, my goodness!!!


	33. Chihiro/Makoto: Oblivious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _waiting for your call_
> 
>  
> 
> _baby, night and day_
> 
>  
> 
> _i'm fed up_
> 
>  
> 
> _i'm tired of waiting on you_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another request by MR_IReadFanfiction! hope you like!
> 
> makoto already knows chihiro is male in this, just so y'all know!!!

It took Chihiro clambering up and into his lap, red-faced but determined, for Makoto to finally think _wait a minute_. 

"C-chihiro...?" He began, glancing around nervously, despite the fact that the two of them were alone in a deserted classroom. This would probably look...um, weird, to other people. “You, uh...you’re affectionate today, huh? Haha.”

He patted once, twice, between Chihiro’s shoulder blades, before awkwardly letting his hands fall back. “You can just ask for a hug if you want one. I’m your friend, you know.”

Given the amount of time they’d spent together lately (Chihiro sure was friendly!) he’d seen quite the variety of expressions cross the other’s face. Nervousness, hesitation, the rare smile, and he can’t forget the blushing. Chihiro sure blushed a lot lately. He’d chalked it up to fever, but he was beginning to wonder if someone even _could_ be so feverish that often. 

This, though...he’d never seen Chihiro look borderline annoyed, but that was definitely what was happening right now. In fact, he appeared to be _pouting_. 

“Are you mad?” He asked concerned. “Did I do something wrong?”

Chihiro inhaled, and then exhaled. His breath, smelling of strawberry milk, brushed against Makoto’s face and he had to hold back a shiver, for some reason. Chihiro suddenly grabbed both of his hands, and Makoto’s eyebrows neared his hairline when the other boy set them around his tiny waist. Chihiro’s skirt raised with his movement, settled on to the upper part of his thighs instead of closer to his knees, where it should be. 

Makoto goes red in a matter of seconds, and his eyes snapped back up. Why was he even looking _down there_? Maybe he was the one getting sick!

Chihiro’s gaze was strangely intense. It felt a little overwhelming just meeting his stare.

“Makoto...” His voice was as soft as always, but he wasn’t even stuttering. Was this a dream?! “Let me ask you something. You and Kyoko are friends, yeah?”

“Well, yes?” He was pretty sure they were, anyway. She didn’t hate him enough to vocalize it, at least, and that was a pretty big deal for her. “Why?”

“Do you think she’d do this? Get in your lap?”

“Wh-wha-” He squeaked, scandalized. “Of course n-not! That’s...well, that’s not something friends do, i-is it?”

“No,” Chihiro’s hands clung to his shoulders. His eyes were half-mast, his cheeks still flushed. “No, it isn't.”

He didn’t know what to say to that, so he just didn’t speak. Chihiro didn’t either. The clock overhead ticked, and along continued the awkward silence, until...

He inhaled sharply, eyes widening. Chihiro raised a delicate eyebrow.

_“Oh.”_

Oh, indeed.

He swallowed, and his hands tightened against Chihiro’s waist. Like clinging to a life-line. The other boy is impossibly warm, and his breathing had quickened the second Makoto moved. Anticipating something, maybe?

“How long have you, uh…” He began sheepishly. “Been hinting at this, and how long have I been a dummy about it?”

Chihiro broke out into a wide, toothy smile. It felt a little like seeing the sun rise for the first time. 

Seconds before a warm mouth was pressed eagerly against his own, he’d heard a giggling whisper of, “Too long.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chihiro is probably shyer than makoto, but id like to imagine he can be pretty bold when tired of waiting ;) these two are weirdly hard to write, but i hope this was decent enough! 
> 
> i very recently got a job (in retail...:'D) so i don't have as much time or energy to write as i'd like to. still trying though!
> 
> (ALSO, THIS FIC HIT 6 0 0 K U D O S !!! I AM IN DISBELIEF!!! i remember being so happy when it hit 50, and i never thought for a SECOND it'd get this far!!!! seriously, thank you guys with all my heart! can't believe this many people like my dumb little self-indulgent fic aAAAAH ;U; <33333)

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone has an idea or a ship they'd like to see, please feel free to tell me, because i may just write it!! there's not many things i just won't write so feel free to go wild!
> 
> (as a warning, i'm not well-acquainted with the anime yet, but any pairing with characters from DR, DR2, Ultra Despair Girls OR DRV3 should be okay!)


End file.
